Adam and Eve
by Disciple of Ember
Summary: Rapture is the city of nightmares. It slays gods and men with equal disdain. When two unlikely allies come together in their joint efforts to escape, only one question will remain between them. How far are you willing to go to survive?
1. Introductions

**Disclaimer: I don't own bioshock or any of the characters associated with it.**

* * *

Orson Steele had often considered himself a great man. Growing up, his parents had regaled him with stories of their place in the glorious city of Rapture. He had never once doubted that he was a god among men.

When the civil war broke out, Orson had embraced it fully. Finally! A chance to show his greatness in its fullest! And show he did, with Adam coursing through his blood he felled countless lesser men. Time and again his allies would be utterly wiped out on either side of him. Time and again he would stand in the maelstrom, untouched.

Once the titans of Rapture fell, and the Family rose to power, he had decided to take things into his own hands. After all, who could make a better leader than he?

Through brutality, cunning, and a total lack of self-doubt Orson had built his own miniature empire in the back alleys of the desiccated city. Lamb couldn't be bothered to hunt him down so he had free reign to bring in whatever cast-off scum she discarded.

The day Delta tore Rapture apart was one of the happiest of Orson's life. Lamb was gone, probably split in half by the metal giant. His own forces quickly took the opportunity to expand their operations, recruiting or killing anyone that got in their way. The future held so much promise; truly nobody had a prayer against him now.

Or so he thought.

The broken man sprinting down the abyssal halls of Rapture was a far cry from the former conqueror. His breath came out in ragged gasps as he fled like a man possessed. He didn't dare stop, didn't dare even slow down, despite the agonizing protests of his limbs.

Orson was running for his life.

It had all been working out so well! His band had destroyed a small group of competitors, successfully bringing the remains of Adonis Resort under their control. He and his lieutenants broke into an old wine stash to celebrate in the banquet hall. Two dozen of the fiercest, strongest, and all around deadliest splicers he could find had drunk deep on the succor of victory. Little did they know it was the last thing they would ever do.

Without warning, their revelries were interrupted. Men and women fell to the ground, clutching their ears as the horrible screech of the damned ripped through them. The hellish scream that heralded only one thing.

A big sister was coming.

Orson wasn't worried. He had taken on big daddies before without too much trouble, and _they _weren't stupid enough to announce their position. As the second, closer, howl tore through the air, he and his forces prepared for battle. Two dozen hardened killers against a single metal freak.

They never stood a chance.

The big sister had blown the doors right off their hinges, repurposing them into deadly projectiles that turned Hector and Bethany into bloody smears on the ground. The rest of them had opened fire immediately, a veritable wall of lead flying through the air with the sole intention of chewing through the monster's armor. There was one thing Orson hadn't counted on however, the big sister was _fast_.

By the time they started shooting, she had already crossed the distance to their position. The few bullets that managed to connect only served to enrage her further.

The next few minutes showed Orson just how wrong he had been. His lieutenants, the vicious champions of Rapture, were mercilessly torn limb from limb by the bastardized product of Lamb's ambition. He could hardly stand to watch when that cruel harvesting needle impaled Geoffrey; the poor fool screaming out his last breath as his viscera was liquefied and forcibly removed from his body.

Orson did the only sane thing he could. While the monster slaughtered his forces, he ran. He ran faster than he had ever run before. He had faced down inhumane beasts and gargantuan death machines, but nothing compared to the sheer terrifying carnage that this one had unleashed upon them.

He had fled as though hell's own hounds were baying for his blood, taking turns at random in the hopes of eliminating any chance that _thing_ had of tracking him. Before long, Orson had become hopelessly lost.

Tears of helpless terror streaked down his Adam-ravaged face, as he frantically searched for territory he recognized. Despite his best efforts, all he managed to find were empty hallways and rotting corpses.

After a while, he began to notice something. He didn't hear screaming, either that of his men or the malformed creature killing them. For a moment he stood, not daring to even breathe as he strained his ears.

Silence was all that greeted him.

Orson let out a shaky laugh as relief replaced mortal peril. His laughter increased until he was lying in a puddle on the ground, clutching his sides. He had done it! He had escaped the clutches of death once again. He wasn't even worried about being lost anymore. He was a survivor, and this was just another setback.

Getting to his feet and taking several breaths to steady himself, Orson began to wander in the direction he thought that the tram stations might be. He would recover, of that he was sure. No screeching freak of nature would be able to keep him down. Adonis Resort was a worthless piss-hole anyway, now he would be free to set his sights on bigger targets. He shivered in anticipation. All of Rapture lay before him, now all he had to do was reach out and take it.

His dreams and ambitions came to a crashing halt as he entered the bulkhead into the next room. It looked to be a large reception are, with a statue of some Greek god he didn't recognizing filling up the center. The entire place had been ransacked and looted by whoever had passed through it before him. Bullet holes and scorch marks scarred the walls, telling the story of the bloodshed that had occurred.

None of this mattered to Orson however, as the only thing he saw was a single figure. Perched on the shoulders of the stature, _she _was there. Waiting for him.

The glaring red porthole fixed him to the spot with murderous intensity.

"No…" She stared down at him with absolute judgment. In that moment she had become far more than just a monster. She was the very manifestation of wrath come to punish him for his sins.

"No… please…"

An angel of death.

The big sister ignored his pleas. Letting out another ear-splitting shriek, she launched herself off of the statue towards him.

In a feeble attempt to stave off the inevitable, Orson raised his arms to protect his face. They did nothing to save him. With the force of truck, she slammed into him causing them both to go crashing to the ground. He felt several of his ribs splinter under the impact.

As he lay blinded by agony, Orson was entirely unprepared for her follow up attack. He managed to open his eyes just as her needle was falling towards his exposed stomach. Pain beyond anything he had experienced before exploded inside his body as the needle pierced him like an insect on display.

Orson hardly even had time to scream when he felt a slight tugging. This was all the warning he got before the harvester activated.

With a horrific sucking sound, his howls of suffering were reduced to dying gurgles. Orson Steele died in that empty room, all his dreams of glory and power being struck down by a living engine of destruction.

Feeling the adrenaline fueled thrill of the hunt begin to dissipate, protectorate M2 Epsilon-04 sagged heavily in her armor. She hardly noticed the electric sensation of the harvester injecting Adam into her bloodstream.

For so long now, she had been almost totally alone. None of her younger sibling sang their carefree songs while gathering. None of her battle-sisters joined in her hunts for the maddened animals known as splicers. The only remnants of her once proud family seemed to be the metal daddies, and they were getting fewer and fewer with each passing day.

When was the last time mother had spoken to her over the radio? When was the last time she had been directed towards an enemy of the family? How long would she have to patrol the empty hallways alone?

Alone…

It was times like this, just after a hunt or extermination, that Epsilon would feel the weight of her solitude most deeply. No matter how well she did; there were no words of praise from her mother. No matter how badly she was hurt; there was no comfort from her siblings.

Letting out a half-hearted growl some rats who were eying the new corpse, Epsilon returned to her usual rounds. She needed to keep the way clear for when her family returned. They would come back eventually.

They had to…

* * *

The empty stores and containers of Rapture had been fairly well stocked when its citizens lost themselves to their crazed Adam addictions. A skilled scrounger should typically be able to find enough food and supplies in useable condition to live comfortably.

Davian was apparently not a skilled scrounger today.

The young man sighed in frustration as he opened up the latest in a long line of boxes containing useless assortments of junk. What was held inside this one?

One dead rat? Check.

A single moldy sock? Check

Two bottles containing suspicious yellow liquids? Check and check.

All in all, it was the picturesque example of what he had been finding for the past several weeks. No food. No supplies. No nothing. It was all beginning to paint a very scary picture for him. The back alleys of the Chimera housing complex were running out of useable supplies.

Sooner or later, he would have to move.

Davian got to his feet with a groan. His back ached after bending over boxes for so long, and his left foot was asleep. He didn't look forward to the walk back to the little hovel he called home.

Davian wasn't a coward. He had faced his fair share of dangers in the past, but even so the idea of moving to a new location frightened him. Even if he didn't run into any other insane inhabitants of the dead city, the sheer weight of the unknown was a deadly force in its own right.

Especially when you were protecting someone particularly vulnerable…

The walk home was fairly uneventful. He only ran across a single splicer, and thankfully the shifty looking man hadn't been in the mood to start trouble. Both of them gave the other a wide berth as they went their separate ways.

As he rounded the next corner, Davian arrived at his home. Very early on he had learned that living on the ground level was essentially painting a 'please kill me in my sleep' sign over your forehead. Nowadays, he had become a bit more inventive with his housing.

The entrance to his place was three stories up, blown out of a high wall courtesy of a discarded grenade launcher. He had personally ensured that the hallways inside the building were destroyed so that his room could only be accessed by the outside. It had been an immense pain to get furniture inside, but it had all been worth it in the end. Very few splicers ever found out where he was hiding, and even fewer ever tried attacking him there.

Rolling his shoulders to ease the sore muscles, Davian prepared to ascend to the top. He stood still as a stone for several moments, before, without warning…

He vanished.

A puff of red smoke was the only sign that he had ever existed in the first place.

After a short pause, another gust of smoke signaled his return to the waking world. He now stood at the precipice of his inner sanctum.

This was what made assaulting him in his home so difficult. Davian had designed the location in such a way that only a Spider, or another Houdini splicer could actually reach him. In this part of Rapture both of them were few and far in-between.

As he worked the door open, he thought about where else he could possibly go if he was forced out of this place. No places immediately came to mind. Every section of Rapture he knew of outside the Chimera housing complex was either drowning in splicers, or drowning in the ocean.

Sometimes both.

Davian would have to worry about that later. He still had enough supplies for a little while, and right now he wasn't feeling up to the task of planning ahead. Shaking his head to dispel the unpleasant thoughts, he stepped inside.

Almost immediately he knew something was wrong. Davian didn't live alone in his fortified hiding place, and his miniature roommate had a habit of rushing to greet him at the door. Today however, there was no sign of her.

"Wren?" He called out into the apartment.

There was no answer. Living in Rapture had instilled him with a keen sense of paranoia, and Wren not answering was something that was _very_ out of the ordinary. With a rising sense of dread, he ventured deeper inside.

"Wren? Are you there?" He ventured again. Once more there was no answer.

Very slowly, Davian entered the main living area. He fully expected to see the gruesome aftermath of a deadly struggle. Oddly enough, the sight that greeted him was nothing of the sort.

There were no splattered bloodstains, or scattered furniture. Everything looked to be in the same place it had been when he had left it that morning. Well, almost everything.

Someone had taken every cushion and pillow he owned, and piled them in the center of the room. The tension eased out of Davian's body as he realized what was going on.

"Hmmm. Where could she be?" He thought out loud, slowly moving through the room while making as much noise as possible.

The pile shook slightly, as a muffled giggle came from underneath it.

"Could she be…? In _here_?" His hand shot into the cushions and latched onto a tiny leg. Hoisting her up, she very nearly deafened him with a squeal of delight. Two glowing yellow eyes flashed as she squirmed in his grasp.

"Put me down! Down! Put me down!" She ordered between fits of childish laughter. Davian put his free hand to his chin in a gesture of mock consideration.

"What's that? You want something? I'm afraid I didn't understand you, you'll need to use the magic word."

When it became apparent that she wouldn't be able to wiggle her way free, Wren relented.

"Put me down _please_." She asked, giving her best wide eyed plea (which was only made more impressive by the fact that she was doing it upside-down).

"That's better." He said before righting her, and placing her back on the mound of cushions. "So is this what you've been up to while I was gone?"

Wren slumped down on the pile, blowing out a sigh. "It's so boooooring when you go out." She said. "There's nobody to play with."

Davian took seat next to her. "You know that if I don't go out, we don't get to eat right?" He asked. She grumbled slightly, not wanting to concede the fact to him. After a few moments, she turned her luminescent gaze back to him.

"Did you bring me a present?" She asked with cautious hope.

Davian smiled to himself. "As a matter of fact I did." Reaching into his jacket, he pulled out a length of vibrant purple lace he had salvaged from a damaged dress. "I found this ribbon and I remembered how much you missed your old one, so I made sure to keep it safe just for you."

Her eyes opened wider than he would have thought possible as she gasped. She launched to her feet and wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug.

"Thank you mister M! Thank you! Thank you!" Not waiting for a reply, Wren snatched the ribbon from his hands and ran to her room to try it on.

As she left, Davian's smile fell. This was the biggest fear he had about moving. If it was just him, he would be able to slip through Rapture largely undetected. With a little sister at his side however, such a hope would be beyond impossible. Splicers would practically, or even literally, run each other over for a chance to get at her. And if she was struck by the need to gather while they were out…

Davian knew that this journey was going to be a rough one. He couldn't leave her behind, but at the same time he couldn't keep her safe like a real protector could.

He didn't know what to do.

Getting to his feet, he began putting the apartment back into working order. He would figure out how to survive the coming struggle when they got going. Right now he had to put on a brave face for Wren; she shouldn't have to worry if she didn't have to.

Forcing his smile to return, Davian got to work.

* * *

**This is a story I've been thinking about for a while, but only recently got around to writing. It will involve a fair number of OCs, but I'll be doing my best to write them in a human fashion. If I ever end up making someone too powerful/weak/etc. then please let me know. I really do want to improve as much as possible.**

**Reviews and criticisms are appreciated, and thanks for reading.**


	2. A rough night

**Disclaimer: I don't own Bioshock or any of the characters associated with it.**

* * *

"_What are you doing!?" _

_Davian hardly had time to react when his father grabbed the vial out of his hands. Before he knew what was happening, he was hoisted in the air to meet the man's gaze._

"_What the fuck did I tell you!?"_

_He had never seen his father this angry before. Not when he had been harassed all day at work. Not when Davian had accidentally broken mother's vase. Not ever._

"_What were you thinking!? I said never touch this stuff! Do you hear me!?"_

_Davian wanted to try and explain. He had gotten the vial after helping Doctor Thomson move some of his equipment up the stairs to his new office. Instead of money, the old man had given him this. But his voice wouldn't come out. He was nothing more than a terrified child struck dumb by his father's outburst. _

"_This isn't a toy! It will KILL you!"_

_His father was shaking now. The vial of red liquid sloshed around in his hand, threatening to break the seal and spill all over the floor. _

"_Answer me goddamn it!" _

_Davian apologized entirely out of reflex. He couldn't control himself as he swore he would never go near the stuff again. He promised that no matter what happened, no matter who offered it; he wouldn't ever use the red substance. _

_After several more minutes of angry yelling and desperate promises, the man finally cleared the haze of anger that had been consuming him. _

"_Davian." He said softly._

"_This is serious. I know what you've been hearing but this 'Adam' isn't some magical solution to all life's problems. Nothing comes without a price. I need you to remember that." _

_Davian agreed. What else could he do? He was just a boy in his father's household. He couldn't go against the man's wishes, especially when it had provoked such a dramatic reaction. _

_Again, Davian made an oath that he wouldn't use the miracle drug under any circumstances. _

_Somehow he knew those words were a lie._

* * *

Another sleepless night.

Davian lay on his back as his eyes tried to trace the cracks in the ceiling. Rapture had no specific time marking the day to night cycles, but there seemed to be an unspoken agreement among its inhabitants.

The day would be started by the lights brightening to a level that was just enough to get by without bumping into things. This was when the main body of the city went to work. They foraged, patrolled, and killed most commonly during these hours.

After ten o'clock the lights would dim and the night cycle would begin. This was when sleeping was supposed to happen. Unfortunately some individuals were unable to relax enough to drift off.

Heaving a sigh, Davian rolled over onto his side. Try as he might, he couldn't get his mind off the problem that was plaguing his thoughts. He had resources to last for at least a few more weeks if he spaced things out, but what would happen after that? Where could he possible go to keep Wren safe?

The answer was nowhere.

He wasn't a big daddy. He wouldn't be able to protect her like one, no matter how badly he wanted to. Even so, he had no other choices left. If they stayed, then both of them would end up starving to death.

Realizing that he was fighting a losing battle, Davian got up from the desiccated lump of cloth that he generously referred to as a mattress. His internal clock wasn't the best, but he estimated that there were still several hours before the day cycle began and Wren woke up.

Until then he would just have to find something to keep himself busy. The first order of business was his morning exercises. Start with stretches, move onto push-ups, then to sit-ups, pull-ups, and finally back to stretches to finish things off. Adam had a nasty way of tearing your body apart if you didn't stop it, and he wasn't about to let himself deteriorate to that level.

For some time the only sound that could be heard in the house was Davian's labored breathing as went through his routine. It was times like this that he was able to relax. During the day, he had to worry about what to do with his time. Where to go. What to look out for. It was all one big stressful job after another.

During the night, he had to deal with planning and his own paranoia. Nightmare scenarios would play through his head as he tried to recuperate after the day. He would often find himself wondering if there was someone outside the door _right now_, listening for any sounds coming from inside. Waiting for the perfect moment to slip inside and cut the throats off everyone they found.

In this moment at least, his mind couldn't haunt him with those images. He was so focused on the simple act of pulling, twisting, pushing, and contorting his muscles that no other thought could work its way into his consciousness.

Well, almost no other thought…

The constant enticing draw of Adam never left him.

Try as he might, there was one simple fact that Davian couldn't dispute. No matter how he justified his actions, or tried to reason with himself, he knew it to be true.

He was a splicer.

He had willingly injected vials of Adam into his bloodstream in an attempt to arm himself for the coming storm. Early on he had tried to convince himself of foolish self-assured predictions.

_Just a bit won't hurt._

_You need this if you're going to survive._

_You won't end up like all those others_

_You'll be fine…_

_Just fine…_

Physically, he was very lucky. The effects of the Adam had left his skin pale, with a sickly pallor, but it could have been so much worse. He had often seen the vile growths and spurting tumors that developed on others who weren't quite as fortunate as he was.

Despite this, he still held a fair amount of mental damage. As a child he had never even considered harming another living thing. Now, he took a shameful amount of satisfaction in killing those who tried to hurt him. He could no longer bring himself to care about their lives, or empathize with their sickness. At best he felt a distant apathy. At worst, an outright contempt. After all it was them or him, and he had no desire to leave this life yet.

Then of course, there was Wren. If someone had told him several years ago that he would be spending most of his time looking after a nightmarish copy of a little girl, he would have laughed in their face.

Now however, she created a very serious issue for him. At first taking her in had just been out of pity for a child that was woefully unprepared to face Rapture alone. Very soon she had become something far closer than that. More than once he had willingly put his own life at risk in order to keep her safe. His desire to survive often clashed with his protectiveness of her.

And then there was the Adam.

Consuming the drug was like walking on a knife's blade. Standing in the balance was agonizingly difficult, but if you slipped too far in either direction you would plunge into the depths of madness.

It didn't help when you shared a roof with a living Adam factory. In Davian's weakest moments he had sometimes contemplated how easy it would be to take that Adam for himself.

He hated the drug for creating this mess.

He hated himself for even thinking about committing such an atrocity.

And he hated the fallen city for existing in the first place.

Wiping the sweat from his brow, Davian finished up the last of his morning exercises. He was tempted to go and check on Wren to see how she was doing, but he was in a bitter mood at the moment and didn't want to hurt her with it.

Instead, he turned his attention to his maps of the surrounding area. If he was going to leave the safety of the Chimera housing complex, he was going to give himself a better understanding of what was out there.

* * *

Silence.

Was there ever a more oppressive sound than that?

It weighed down on every corner, every bar, and every surface as Protectorate M2 Epsilon-04 made her rounds.

She knew the madmen were out there. They watched and skulked in the shadows, waiting for her to pass by so they could drag their sorry carcasses back into the open safely. She knew, but she couldn't bring herself to care.

Occasionally she would break into one of their dens, and bring the family's wrath crashing down on them. It was a great way to distract herself from the perpetual solitude that she had to endure.

Even so, it was a temporary reprieve.

After they were all dead and gone, she would still be there, alone in the darkened hallways of a once great city. And it was all _his _fault.

Delta…

That metal bastard had taken everything away from her to satisfy his own selfish desire. He had killed her sisters, kidnapped Eleanor, destroyed her home, and stolen her mother.

Epsilon had wanted to fight him, to tear into his damnable monstrous hide and end the life that threatened everything she held dear. But mother had different ideas. Epsilon and several of her sisters had been deployed to sections of the city to keep order while she dealt with the rogue daddy.

Grudgingly, they had gone. While Delta rampaged towards his target, they ensured the splicers stayed in line with Lamb's will. At least, they had at first.

When news of their first sister's death in Ryan Amusements had reached them, Omega-02 had become inconsolable. She had flown into a fit of maddened rage so strong that her other sisters couldn't hold her back. Screaming her fury to the winds, she had rushed headlong to meet the beast in battle.

It was the last time Epsilon had seen her alive.

One by one her sisters went out to hunt him down. One by one he cut them down with heartless cruelty. Epsilon had wanted so badly to go and fight, to do _something_ other than watch her sisters die, but mother had spoken. She was to stay.

That wasn't the only thing holding her back either. She had refused to believe it at first. She had railed against the very notion, but eventually she realized…

She was scared.

Delta had become far more than just an uncontrolled alpha series. He was turning into a living nightmare. _He_ was the horror lurking in the dark. _He_ was the one hunting _them_ now. Epsilon was forced to face the uncomfortable truth that she didn't want to die, even if it was for a greater cause.

And then it was over. Delta had stolen away to the surface on a pillaged lifeboat. He had dragged Eleanor away from her family, kicking and screaming as a grim trophy.

And he had taken mother…

She didn't know what fate had ultimately befallen her guiding light, but if she was at _his_ mercy it couldn't be good.

Without Lamb's voice directing her, Epsilon was lost.

She was a tool without a purpose. A weapon without a target. She had fallen back on the final directives given to her before Delta had escaped, and kept the splicers subdued. Even so, she still had no other goals to follow.

She had tried to contact her other siblings, but none of them answered her. She didn't dare leave her territory to look for other survivors. What if someone came looking for her only to find she had abandoned her post? She lacked the vocal capabilities to try and explain her actions.

A deep rumbling brought Epsilon out of the daze she had fallen into. Immediately on guard, she turned to face the newcomer. The sight that greeted her was one of the saddest ones still present in Rapture.

Slowly drifting down the hallways, with even less purpose then her, was a Bouncer. The colossal knight was another of the innocents harmed by Delta's crusade against all that was good in the world. He dragged his massive bulk along with an air of such crushing sadness it made tears sting her eyes. A brief glance was all that was needed to see the source of his suffering.

There was no little one at his side. His sister, along with so many others, had been stolen by Delta. It would have been bad enough for him to kill them, but he had done something so much worse. With some twisted plasmid he had taken away their lives in a very different fashion. After a brief glowing flash, her sisters had ceased to be. In their place were sickly, feeble, parodies of their former selves.

Beautiful golden eyes were replaced by ugly shades of brown, blue, and green. Fair porcelain skin was changed to a cracked, waxy, substance that was more akin to parchment then flesh. Worst of all, their minds vanished in that hellish light. The happy joyful children were gone. They had become meek, timid creatures that fled from the very ones who lived to keep them safe.

They fled from their true family.

The bouncer turned his unwavering gaze on her in an expectant fashion. When several moments passed without a response, he heaved a groaning sigh and continued on his lonely journey to nowhere.

Epsilon watched him go with the iron clasp of pity firmly lashed around her heart. He was even worse off than she. While she was crippled by the loss of her family, the big daddy had literally lost the very thing he existed to protect.

Feeling thoroughly depressed, she decided that it was time to call it quits on her rounds for the day. Right now, she doubted that anything short of a second civil war would be able to motivate her to any kind of action.

It took only a short while to find a suitable place to lie down for the night. A small store that had once held some sort of food stuffs for those who could afford it made for acceptable sleeping arrangements.

Epsilon was careful to ensure that nobody would sneak up on her while she slept. It was one of the most basic survival skills she had learned when training to be a Protectorate.

First, lay down any kind of noisemaker to block off entrances and give away anyone ignorant enough to set them off. In this case, a set of cans tied together with string tied to the door would serve.

Second, ensure that all weaponry was close at hand and easily accessible. In her case the only weapon she had that could be removed was her needle. She didn't know how long it had been since she had actually taken it off though.

Third, find a small alcove to hide in. Preferable out of site, and in a position that allowed you to watch the entrances. It was a bit demeaning to rest under a rack of what looked to be primeval cuts of dried fish, but she had survived far worse conditions in the past.

Fourth, be sure to have someone keep watch. No matter how well laid your preparations may be, there is still the chance that a determined splicer could slip past them. Epsilon had no one to watch over her while she slept, so she had little choice but to risk it.

Finally, clear your mind of any distracting thoughts in order to fall asleep as quickly and efficiently as possible. This was far easier said than done, but she had practiced it for many years. At this point it had become almost second nature to approach the task with a mechanical detachment.

Slowly, the sound of her breathing behind the red mask of her helmet became slower and more regular as one of Rapture's apex predators drifted off to sleep.


	3. Going gathering

**Disclaimer: I don't own Bioshock or any of the characters associated with it**

* * *

"Come on mister M! Don't be a slowpoke!"

Davian was getting rather tired of this outing. The day had started out easily enough, with a small breakfast and a game of hide-and-seek before he got ready to go foraging again. His plans had been forcibly changed however when Wren had been struck by the need to gather Adam. He had learned very early on that trying to stop her when she fell prey to this urge had rather… dramatic consequences.

It was an addiction. The same kind of all-consuming desire that encompassed those who lost themselves to their own Adam addictions. When she had to gather, all other things took a back seat.

This particular venture was getting even more dangerous than usual. For the past several hours, the two of them had been wandering the halls following whatever sense Wren used to locate their targets. Davian had grown increasingly concerned as they moved farther and farther away from his familiar territory.

By now, it was all he could do to try and remember which way was home.

"Hey Wren, hold on for a second and let me catch my breath." He said.

The little girl let out a puff of annoyance, but sat down obediently as he got his bearings. By now they had been traveling for well over a third of the day, which meant that any hope of gathering supplies had officially gone out the window.

To Davian's left, a faded sign advertised the 'Adonis Resort' spa and rejuvenation facility. Apparently before Rapture went to hell this had been a nice get away spot for the wealthy and privileged. There was just one problem.

He had no idea what the area was like.

It could be a splicer hotspot, or it could be entirely free of the creatures. He didn't know whether or not he wanted to risk it though. After all, it just took one psychopath with a gun to put a serious damper on your plans.

Wren sat a short distance away, picking at a coral outcropping and fidgeting impatiently as he decided what to do next.

It was strange, Davian supposed, that she was like this. Whenever they were at home Wren was a bundle of energy with the attention span of an excitable puppy. When they went gathering however, she focused with an almost unnatural intensity. She didn't deviate from the path no matter how long or how far it took her.

Normally Davian was impressed by this, but today he really missed the times when she would run around the house begging to be entertained.

Apparently having had enough of the waiting around, Wren got to her feet and dusted off her dress.

"Come on mister M." She said. "The angels won't wait forever."

Davian didn't bother pointing out that the 'angels' _would _in fact wait forever, or at least for however long it took them to rot away entirely.

"I'm coming, hold on a second." Predictably enough, she ignored him and began to skip off. He groaned slightly as he set off after his charge.

The two of them were in direct contrast as they continued. Davian had every one of his senses strained to the limit, looking for any threat or danger that might try to take them by surprise. Wren on the other hand pranced along merrily, completely oblivious to the death and carnage that was plastered all across the halls.

Right now he was starting to regret getting her the ribbon. The unfamiliar color kept grabbing his attention from its position in her brown hair, and threatened to blind him from the surrounding world.

He was so distracted by the bobbing, purple, lace that he didn't notice the corpse on the floor until he tripped over it.

With a cry of dismay, Davian came crashing to the floor. He reflexively pushed away from the body and lit a fire in his palm as he surveyed the grisly sight.

The unfortunate splicer had clearly never heard of self-restraint. Every inch of exposed flesh showed signs of massive Adam over-dose, ranging from ugly scars to grotesque growths dotting his body. His ravaged face was twisted in a permanent expression of pain and terror.

Davian jumped slightly as Wren poked him in the shoulder.

"That angels already been helped. Get up so we can find the others." For a moment, he was tempted to ask what she was talking about. But a second look at the corpse answered his question.

A rather large hole had been torn in the man's abdomen, and from the looks of things his entire upper body had been crushed under some great weight. Surprisingly enough there was very little blood.

The most disturbing thing about the body was its state of decay, or rather lack thereof. The rats had picked away some of the flesh, but the vast majority was still intact. This meant that the body was still recent, a few days old at most.

This was definitely _not_ a good sign.

Davian quickly got to his feet, extinguished the flame, and took Wren's hand. "Come on." He said. "The sooner we find your angel the sooner we can get out of here." She just rolled her eyes as if to say that his comment was painfully obvious.

It took them only a few more minutes before she managed to locate the angel she had been tracking.

Davian had a very hard time trying to keep his breakfast down when they arrived.

He had seen plenty of death in the underwater city, but this was something else entirely. Strewn about the room like broken toys, the bodies of at least twenty splicers lay mangled and broken. Several had the same puncture holes as the one he had stumbled across, but most had simply been savaged.

At least five of them had limbs removed, and several had been ripped entirely in two. One woman had her head turned around one hundred and eighty degrees so that she was facing the wrong direction.

Wren was entirely unaffected by the horrific slaughter, humming a tune as she crouched down near a body and got to work. Davian could only begin to imagine how this scene looked to her with the mental tampering she had undergone.

Grudgingly, he took up his position as her protector while she gathered.

His nerves were strained to their breaking point as he tried to ignore the sound of her needle entering and exiting the bodies. Every shadow seemed sinister, waiting and watching for the perfect moment to strike. It was all a horrible experience, but the worst part was the _smell_. The disgusting stench of moist rot infected every inch of the room so thickly that it was almost visible.

It wasn't until she got around to the third body that things started to get dangerous.

"I'm telling you, their all dead!" Davian tensed suddenly at the sound of the unfamiliar voice.

"They can't all be dead, Orson wouldn't let that happen."

"Oh yea? Since when did that fat ass ever care about protecting his men? Come on, I'll show you the corpses."

Someone was coming. From the sound of their footsteps and general noisemaking there were more than just the two who were talking.

Davian didn't waste any time. He hoisted Wren away from the dead man she had been gathering from, and cut off her yelp of protest by covering her mouth with his free hand. A brief survey of the surrounding area told him that the only viable hiding spot was behind a low counter that may have once been a vending stall.

He quickly ran behind it, holding Wren as close to him as possible to minimize the chances of them being spotted by anyone heading towards the room. No sooner had the two of them packed into the small area then their unwanted guests made their entrance.

Several long moments stretched out before one of the splicers voiced what they were all thinking.

"Holy fuck!"

Davian flinched slightly at the sound of the curse. He had long since trained himself out of using them to avoid having Wren start asking him what they meant.

"What happened? It looks like someone turned the room into a blender!"

Their voices were getting closer, and Davian realized that if they walked near him they would be sure to see something. The little girl in his arms began to tremble at the sudden seriousness of the situation. All of her earlier joviality was replaced by the mounting tension.

"Gabe says he thinks it was one of those metal freaks."

Taking a slight risk, he inched his head around the counter to see the splicers. There were five of them standing in a small group. The tallest one, obviously the leader, held a tommy gun loosely in one hand while chatting with his shotgun wielding partner. Behind them were a man and a woman who both were armed with pistols.

They all bore signs of Adam abuse, but the one at the back was by far the worst off. Its body had been so distorted that it was impossible to tell any kind of gender. The only defining feature in its ruined face was a lolling tongue that hung out of a painfully stretched mouth. The sorry creature was aimlessly swinging a rusty knife around as it walked.

"What, you mean a daddy?" Asked the splicer holding the shotgun.

"No, no." Replied the leader. "One of the screaming ones. Gabe claims he heard the sound of its yelling from all the way out in the saunas."

They were getting closer. With a sinking feeling, Davian realized that they were going to find his hiding place, and he was willing to bet that they wouldn't be friendly. Especially not when they saw Wren.

There was going to be a fight, and he wasn't about to let them make the first move.

"Stay here." He whispered in her ear. She gave a small nod to tell him that she understood. Looking up, he set his sights on the metal support beams holding up the ceiling and vanished.

"What was that?" The woman asked suddenly, bringing her pistol up at the sudden breeze.

"Hey! Quit pointing that damn thing around would ya?" The man beside her said angrily, backing away from the barrel of the weapon.

"Didn't you hear something just now?" She asked again.

"No." He said. "But if you don't take that gun out of my face, I'll make sure everyone from here to Fontaine Futuristics hears you screaming."

Davian observed their small group from above. His pulse began to pick up as his body recognized that he would be conflict soon. As he watched the malformed thing in the back began to sniff the air like a dog, and emit a wet rasping sound.

The noise caught the lead splicer's attention, and he turned to the creature.

"What's that Skritch? You smell someone?" It gurgled wildly and gestured with the knife towards where Wren was still hiding. Somehow, its Adam infused senses were able to detect her.

Davian clenched his teeth. He didn't want to reveal his position any sooner than he had to, but he wouldn't let them find her. The man and woman were standing fairly close together. If he was careful he could probably take them both out in one shot.

Taking aim, he called a fireball into his palm and unleashed hell.

Unfortunately, it seemed the woman had quick reactions to match her earlier perception. As the flaming projectile shot through the air, she heard it and dove out of the way.

Her male companion was not as fortunate.

His howl of agony was cut off as the fiery explosion ended his life, throwing the splicers into a flurry of confused panic.

"Where the fuck did that come from!?" Their leader demanded, rushing behind a nearby pillar for protection.

"Up there! Someone's up there!" The woman shouted. Her pistol cracked loudly in the cavernous room as she fired shot after shot towards the ceiling. None connected, but they forced Davian to relocate.

Taking a risk, he teleported to his next target.

Directly in front of her.

She leapt back in shock at his sudden appearance and brought up her pistol. This was exactly what he had expected, and as she pulled the trigger he vanished again. By the time she saw her ally through the haze of red smoke, it was too late.

Her shot rang out, and the shotgun wielding splicer screamed in pain as his shoulder exploded in a bloody mess.

"You bitch! You shot me!" He raged, dropping his weapon and holding the injured limb.

Any reply she would have made was cut off as Davian's second fireball slammed into her, burning her to a cinder.

"Goddamn it, where the hell is he!?" Their leader shouted, leveling his tommy gun towards the surrounding room. "What kind of crap is this!?"

A sudden terrified scream echoed throughout the room, drawing everyone's attention towards the counters. The beast known as Skritch stood tall on top of them, triumphantly holding up the struggling Wren. She screamed a second time as he brought up the knife to cut her open.

"Mister M! Help!"

Skritch only had a split second to register the appearance of the enraged Houdini before a wall of fire consumed its flesh. The creature hurled Wren away while flailing helplessly in the flames, squealing like a stuck pig the whole time.

The leading splicer didn't miss his opportunity. Seeing Davian appear to dispatch Skritch, he let loose a salvo at the young man. He was rewarded by a yell of pain before a volley of fireballs forced him back into cover.

When the flames dispersed, the action in the room suddenly died down. The only sound being the sobbing of the little girl.

"Jonas, where is he?" He questioned the injured splicer who had dropped his gun.

"Can't see him boss." The bleeding man said. "Damn it this hurts! Please boss, you gotta help me!" His voice was getting weaker as the blood loss started setting in.

He ignored the pleas, instead focusing all his energy on listening for the sound of a Houdini's teleport.

He didn't have to wait long.

With a blast of smoke and wind, Davian appeared behind him. He tried to swing his gun around, but the Houdini had already closed the distance. Davian struck the weapon aside and followed up with a hard punch to the throat. Caught off guard, the splicer reflexively dropped the gun and reached for his neck. He was barely able to stop himself in time to jump away from a blast of fire from his opponent.

He tried a wild swing in an attempt to deal some damage, but Davian was prepared. Catching the splicer's arm in one hand, he put all his weight into one movement and brought his free palm smashing into the man's elbow. A sickening snap and a choked scream filled the room as the bones broke like twigs.

The splicer dropped to the floor, blinded by agony. He didn't even have time to realize what was happening before Davian picked up the fallen tommy gun and put a bullet into the back of his head.

Davian stood for a moment, observing the body. The adrenaline rush was leaving him and he was starting to feel the gash in his side from where one of the bullets had grazed him. It wasn't a deep wound, but it still hurt plenty.

He spared a quick glance around the corner to check on the only other living splicer. The man, 'Jonas' was still lying where he had fallen, slowly bleeding out. His gaze was unfocused and his breath came out in short bursts. With a pull of the trigger Davian finished him off and dropped the weapon beside him.

He _really_ didn't like using guns. He would when there was no other choice, but the weapons just seemed to make killing too… easy. The last thing he wanted was to turn ending a life into a casual gesture.

With the threats gone, he made his way over to where Wren had curled up. The small girl immediately took the chance to latch onto him as she cried softly from the dangerous encounter.

"Are you all right?" He asked with a gentle concern.

She nodded silently into his shoulder, trying her best to stop her tears now that the danger had passed.

"They were bad men…" She said.

"Yea they were." He said, rubbing her back. "But they can't hurt you now."

A short while later she had calmed down enough for him to pull back and examine the bodies. He didn't bother with the firearms. He had no desire to use them, and didn't have the space to carry them even if he did.

Altogether, most of the splicers had very little of use. A few scattered coins and a bit of ammunition were all the grunts had on them. Their leader, on the other hand, had two fully stocked med kits in his belt which Davian promptly looted.

Those things were worth their weight in gold.

Once he was satisfied that there was nothing worthwhile left on them, he turned to Wren. The little sister had lost her desire to gather after their interruption.

"Let's go." He said, taking her hand. "If we hurry, we can still make it home before-"

He didn't get to finish his sentence.

The surrounding silence was utterly shattered as a horrific screech tore through the air, forcing Davian to the ground as he instinctively covered his ears in an attempt to block it out. The sound shot a primal fear through him so strong that his limbs refused to respond.

It was a sound he knew all too well. One that he hadn't heard since the days of Lamb's reign over Rapture.

It was the hunting call of a big sister.


	4. Meet the neighbors

**I probably should have done this earlier, but thanks to** Dracorex16** and **Mechromando** for being the first reviewers. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Bioshock or any of the characters associated with it.**

* * *

_She had been remade._

_With their needles and scalpels they had changed her. They had taken away her voice, her innocence, and even her name, but they had given so much in return. _

_In place of her innocence, they gave her sight. She could see the world for what it really was, and now she had the weapons to fight against it._

_Her voice had been replaced by an echoing scream. A banshee's howl that would be the harbinger of death for so many fiends and monsters._

_And her name… She had no need for that now. Instead she had a number. She was Epsilon-04, protector of the family and bane of the selfish._

_It had been so difficult, so very painful, to get to this point. She had to endure the constant suffering that came from their operations, all the while battling against her own instincts. Her body wanted nothing more than to give into the ever-present blind rage and kill everyone she could find. _

_If it was not for mother's voice she may have fallen. Mother was always there, watching over her and her sisters as they fought to become what she wished. Her calm commands were a beacon in a sea of chaos. Without her, they surely would have been lost. _

_Then it was over. No more needles. No more operations. The rage was still there, but it was less intense now. It was something she could control. _

_She had been reborn. The helpless child was gone, replaced by a mighty champion of metal and Adam-fueled power. With all this armor and weaponry, she was going to be just like…_

…_. Daddy …_

_The leech in her stomach gave a lurch as the feeling of helpless sorrow washed over her. She couldn't pretend anymore. Daddy wasn't sleeping. He wouldn't wake up. He was gone, taken away by the enemies of the family._

_Several years ago, this would have crushed her. The misery would have dragged her to the ground, never to rise again. But she was stronger now. She had learned to endure all different kinds of pain. _

_She wouldn't let his sacrifice be in vain. She would continue daddy's work and protect her little sisters against any who would dare try to hurt them._

_She was Epsilon-04, and now she was ready to kill._

* * *

Epsilon jolted awake from her position underneath the display rack. For an instant, she didn't remember where she was. As the memories of her previous days filtered back her pulse slowed down to normal levels.

Her mind began to wander as she realized there was no rush to get up. She had been having such a nice dream too, remembering when she had first been inducted into the ranks of the big sisters. Come to think of it, what had woken her up? It had almost sounded like-

"_Mister M! Help!"_

Epsilon was on her feet in an instant. The scream had been distant, on the very edge of her hearing, but it was unmistakable.

It was a little sister.

She rocketed off the spot and blasted down the door with a wave of pure telekinetic force. The splinters of wood hadn't even hit the floor before she was past them, and speeding directly towards the sound.

Epsilon could hardly believe it. One of her sisters was alive! Her ecstatic excitement was overshadowed by worry. Judging from her shout, the girl was in trouble. There was no way she would let one of her sisters come to harm.

As she neared the source of her sibling's scream, she let loose one of her own. The earsplitting howl raced down the crumbling halls even faster than she was, telling one and all that death was running with her.

No barrier stood in her way. She vaulted over any fallen debris that tried to block her path, and even ran over a slow splicer that didn't get out of the way in time. She hardly even registered the feeling of his body being flung aside by her headlong dash.

In record time Epsilon had crossed the vast distance between her resting place and her sister's location. It was the very same den she had raided only a couple of days ago, and inside was her target.

Standing in the center of the room was a young splicer. One of his arms gripped the little sister while the other held a bleeding wound on his side. His eyes were wide and terrified.

Good. He should be afraid.

She shrieked out a battle cry as she catapulted into the room, using her momentum to guide her descent directly at him. Her harvester was aimed for his heart, and he had no time to dodge out of the way. Before she could land the killing blow however, something very strange happened.

As she fell towards him, he suddenly vanished in a cloud of red smoke. Unable to stop her descent, Epsilon's needle slammed into the ground at an awkward angle. The impact sent a painful jolt up her arm and caused her to let out a surprised yelp.

Angrily, she whirled around to see where her quarry had gone. She spotted his retreating form just as he disappeared through the doorway she had entered from with her young sibling in tow.

Epsilon howled in rage as she leapt towards the opening. Her blood sang as closed in on her prey.

The hunt was on.

* * *

This was bad. VERY bad. If Davian had a scale that measured just how bad a situation could be from one to ten, this would be around a fifty-thousand.

There were several golden rules that he had learned to live by in Rapture.

One: Never go to a surgeon that demands to be paid in advance.

Two: Never trust anything labeled as 'mystery meat'.

And Three: Never, EVER, get between a big sister and her victims.

If you happened to _be _her victim, well… you're pretty much screwed.

Already he was starting to feel the strain of his earlier exertions. His breath came out in ragged gasps as his lungs desperately tried to keep up with his sprinting feet. The injury in his side wasn't helping matters either.

Behind him, a fearsome screech signaled that the big sister had given chase. Davian knew he didn't stand a chance of outrunning her, even if he didn't have to carry Wren, but he had no intention of just running.

As soon as he set sights on the far end of the room, he let his plasmids do the rest. It was a massive strain on his Adam reserves to teleport with someone else holding onto him, but right now the threat of a violent death kept him from caring too much.

As soon as he and Wren reappeared, they were gone again. He didn't remain in one place for more than a couple of seconds. Just enough time to get his bearings for another jump.

He kept up the rapid teleports until he came to a room that looked as though it had been under construction when the civil war halted all progress. He was standing on a raised platform above a veritable sea of cement floors, pipework, and discarded construction equipment. He didn't see any other exits to the room, but maybe if he-

His train of thought was brutally derailed as his pursuer plowed into his back with the force of a missile. Wren was torn from his grasp with a cry, and in an instant; he and the big sister were thrown over the edge of the platform. Time seemed to slow to a crawl as they hung suspended. Over his shoulder, Davian could see the glaring red porthole of his aggressor boring into him.

He didn't give himself time to think. Working on total instinct he teleported again. This time, directly up in the air. It was the strangest sensation of vertigo to suddenly have all sideways momentum shifted into upward force, but he knew he didn't have long to reach his next target.

Seeing a relatively open patch of cement, Davian vanished before he had time to start falling. His landing was less than graceful, but he luckily managed to roll so as to avoid injuring himself further. His opponent twisted in mid-air and managed to make her touchdown look both easy and elegant.

Both of them stood locked in a contest of wills. His blue eyes met her red visor as neither of them moved a muscle. He could hear Wren shouting at them from above, luckily she hadn't fallen off with them, but he couldn't make out the words. Every muscle was tensed in preparation for her next attack.

In Rapture one always had to be ready to fight for survival. Everyone and everything could kill you if you let them. Through long years of experience Davian had learned that fear, while sometimes useful, had to be controlled.

Working on steadying his breathing, he willed his emotions to drift back into his subconscious. His muscles began to loosen into a ready stance as their standoff continued. He had only one advantage over the metal-cased monster, and that was his wits and survival skills.

Davian's patience was rewarded. A slight bending of her knees was more than enough warning to alert him to her attack. As she rocketed towards him, he hurled a blast of flame directly at her before vanishing and reappearing some distance behind her.

The explosion of flames didn't seem to hurt her all that much, but they knocked her off balance. Davian had no intention of letting her recover. Before she knew what was happening, another flurry of fireballs impacted her back, sending painfully hot streaks of flame all around her armor.

She launched towards his new location, only to let out a cry of frustration as he disappeared again. From the opposite end of the room, he unleashed another volley.

She was ready for him this time.

Using her telekinetic abilities, the big sister pulled a cement mixer into the path of his attack. The orbs of flame exploded harmlessly on its metal body before she sent it hurtling in his direction.

This was when Davian made his first major mistake. Caught off guard by the unexpected display of plasmids, he rushed to teleport to safety. She hung back, waiting for the telltale red mist that would give away his destination. As soon as it appeared, she struck.

Davian materialized just in time to see her harvester swinging towards him like a sword. Unable to jump again so quickly, he lurched backwards in an attempt to escape. The movement turned what would have been a killing blow into a slightly less lethal maiming.

The needle traced a white hot line of agony across his chest as it tore through him. His breath came rushing out in a pained scream as he fell back, badly wounded, with her bearing down on him. Drawing on strength born from desperation, he shot a blazing wall of flame directly in her face.

The big sister recoiled screeching, allowing him to work up the concentration to jump again. He appeared behind a large storage container in the hopes that it would allow him to stay hidden for a few precious moments.

Davian's breath became more labored as the wound dripped his life away. One hand tried to stem the bleeding, while the other fumbled for one of his recently acquired first aid kits. Popping the tin open, he grasped the syringe inside and stabbed it into his body near the wound. As he depressed the plunger, the horrible pain of his injury slowly faded into a dull ache.

He let out a sigh of relief as the gash closed up. He might still die, but he wouldn't bleed to death before the fight was over.

It didn't take long for his enemy to locate his hiding spot. In a display of incredible telekinetic power, the big sister lifted up the entire container with the intention of crushing him beneath its bulk.

Davian wasn't about to fall that easily however. As the massive metal tomb came crashing down, he had already vanished. He blinked into existence a short distance away from his opponent and focused every ounce of energy he had left into one blazing fire blast.

The swirling ball of hellfire swelled to massive size as he hurled it at the enraged protector. At this distance she had little time to think about dodging away, and instead hastily pulled another object into the path of the projectile with her telekinesis.

Fortunately for her there were several possible shields nearby. Unfortunately for both of them, she didn't take the time to select the most suitable one.

Davian could only watch in horror as a large pallet of oil drums being was hoisted into the way of the flames. He had just enough time to raise his arms in front of his face when the shot connected, sending a massive explosion roaring through the confines of the room.

The shockwave hurled him away and sent shrapnel raking across his body. Landing painfully on his back, he was deafened by the ceaseless ringing in his ears.

After several moments he managed to struggle to his feet and block out the noise. Where had she gone? He knew he didn't have long to locater her before she struck again.

It only took Davian a second to find her. She lay crumpled on the ground several yards from where she had been standing when the oil drums detonated. It seemed that she had been far worse off than he was.

Her armor was scorched badly from the blast, and a large piece of metal debris had imbedded itself into her helmet.

Davian didn't dare to breathe, but it soon became clear that she wasn't about to get back up. He slumped to the ground as relief surged through his veins.

He was still alive.

He had been attacked by a big sister and _he was still alive!_

His moment of triumph was broken by a heart wrenching wail of dismay from behind him. Before he could react, Wren had dashed past him to the fallen monster's side.

"Big sister!" She cried. "Mister M! Big sister's hurt! Quick, fix her up!"

For an instant Davian was struck dumb. _Surely_ he had misheard. There was no way that those words had just come out of her mouth.

"What?!" He exclaimed, certain that she hadn't just said that.

"Fix her up mister M, hurry!" The amount of concern in her voice shocked him just as much as her demand.

"I- She- You- _What!?"_ He shouted. "She just tried to kill me! You can't seriously be worried about _her_ after that can you!?"

As ever, using logic against a little sister proved to be pointless. Wren glared at him with tears in her eyes, fixing him with an accusing silence as though _he _was the one at fault.

"Wren-"

"No!" She yelled, cutting him off. "You have to help her! You have to, you have to, _youhaveto_!"

Davian was caught in a deadly trap. The noise from his fight with the big sister was sure to draw attention from the splicers that lived nearby, and right now he had no energy to fight them. Exhaustion pulled him down with each passing moment, threatening to drag him to the floor.

His Adam supply was even worse off. Fighting the first group of splicers had been draining, but the second battle had just about run him dry. He could already feel the chills and shakes begin to take hold of his body. If he didn't get home to his stash soon…

He didn't want to think about that.

To put it simply, Davian had no time to try and make Wren see reason. Her mental conditioning forced her to see the creature as some sort of guardian, and trying to undermine it would be incredibly difficult at best.

"Fine." He growled, shaking his head as he made his way to the big sister's body. "We can take her home and patch her up there."

In truth he wasn't too sure that it mattered what they did. She looked just about dead as it was, and he had no idea if she would be able to last during their walk back to safety.

Wren nodded rapidly as he knelt down to pick up the body. Davian was pleasantly surprised to find that, despite the armor, the big sister was relatively light. With a bit of effort he managed to sling her across his shoulders in a way that made carrying her manageable.

"Come on! Let's go!' Wren called, as she dashed ahead. She had already started climbing back up the platform that he had fallen off of earlier.

Davian groaned silently. He had forgotten about the fact that he would have to carry her back up to the top. Add that to the distance from here to his hiding place, mixed with the Adam craving that was setting in and it all pointed to one thing.

It was going to be a _very_ long walk home.


	5. Playing doctor

**To **ATOM**: I'm sorry? You're going to have to be a bit more specific than that. Was the time I uploaded an issue? **

**Anyway, moving on**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Bioshock or any of the characters**

* * *

**This problem could be solved so easily you know.**

Davian grit his teeth as he tried to block out the voice. His trudge through the halls of Rapture was becoming more difficult with each step.

**You have two sources of Adam well within arm's reach.**

He had abandoned his earlier attempts of moving stealthily when it became clear that he desperately needed another injection of Adam. Right now, all that mattered was getting home before he did something unforgivable.

**You don't even have to kill the child. The one on your back would be more than enough.**

It wasn't the kind of thing he had expected at first. After all, when you think of a voice in your head aren't they supposed to be criminally insane? Where was the manic giggling? The haunting whispers? It certainly wasn't supposed to be a calm, controlled, and persuasive force.

**All you need to do is distract her for a moment. When she's looking the other way, take what you need from the armored one. **

Davian didn't know if he was insane. Did crazy people recognize their own instability? All he knew was that the voice would come back whenever his reserves ran dry.

**She won't even realize that something is wrong. Just tell her that her sibling is sleeping. Isn't that what they always say?**

In a way it was helpful. Whenever he started hearing it, he knew that he needed a fix right away. By the time you started feeling the other symptoms like shaking, chills, and the pain, it was usually too late.

**The thing is probably dead anyway. She hasn't moved once since you picked her up. **

By the time Davian realized he was in familiar territory, they were already standing below the opening to his home. He had been so busy trying to focus on _not_ giving into his need for Adam that he hadn't even noticed his surroundings. His body had taken him back automatically, knowing where to go without any help from him.

There was just one problem.

He had designed the safe-house to prevent most splicers from being able to reach it, and now…

**Do you honestly think you can make that jump in your state?**

He was already feeling some of the symptoms of withdrawal. Just standing still was difficult as tremors ran up and down his spine. Going up alone would have been a major challenge, but with two passengers in tow, it would be nearly impossible.

**You're just going to get yourself killed if you try. Is that what you want?**

He didn't have a choice. Leaving Wren and her sibling outside, even if it was just for the time it took him to find an Adam syringe, would be incredibly dangerous. Any passing splicer would have a free target that was too good to pass up.

"Wren." He called. "We're going to be going up now. I need you to hold onto me."

Both his hands were currently being used to hold the big sister in place, so she took hold of his elbow instead.

"Ready." She assured happily, looking up at him with the kind of total trust that only a child could pull off. Gods above, how he wished she wouldn't look at him like that. Especially right now.

Davian fixed his gaze up on the balcony above. It was a teleport he did almost every day, but it seemed so far out of reach. If something went wrong, it was more than just _his_ life at risk. He took a moment to steady his nerves, and jumped.

Almost immediately he knew something was wrong.

The normal weightless feeling of vanishing into the Adam spawned mists was replaced by a terrible ripping sensation. Every cell in his body felt as though it were being pulled apart by some merciless force. In a panic, he tried to force his way back to reality through willpower alone. The mists resisted his efforts as they threatened to shatter his form.

After what felt like an eternity, but couldn't have been more than a few heartbeats, he worked up enough concentration to break through the curtain of red. His reappearance was rushed and clumsy, causing him to topple over the moment he touched down on the balcony. The big sister suddenly felt much heavier now that she was crushing him into the ground.

As he heaved her off, he realized just how badly off he was. A crippling chill had begun coursing through his veins, and his eyesight was becoming less clear with each passing second.

**Looks like you're going to take my advice after all. Pity you didn't listen when you still could do it willingly. That would have saved us all a lot of trouble.**

No! He couldn't lose control! Not now that they were so close to safety. Wren bumped into him, dizzily blinking away the effects of their jump.

"Mister M, that made my head feel all funny."

Davian didn't have the time to answer. He needed to reach his Adam stash _right now._ Lurching forward, he desperately pried the door open.

As he shifted the bulk of the portal with one hand, he used the other to drag his metal passenger through with Wren bringing up the rear. In one swift motion he slammed the door shut, dropped the big sister on the floor, and took off sprinting into his home. Behind him, Wren let out a startled cry at his actions, but he didn't have the luxury of hiding his affliction at the moment.

Davian's condition only worsened as he stumbled towards his room. His teeth chattered so badly that he was worried his jaw might break. Every part of him rebelled against his will as the need for the drug began to take over.

With failing steps, he lunged into his private quarters and yanked open the drawer that held what he needed. Inside lay six vials arranged side by side. Each one contained the single greatest and most horrible creation in the history of mankind. Their brilliant red contents blinked upwards at him tauntingly as he stared.

Davina quickly grabbed the first one he saw as well as a nearby syringe. Normally, everything about Adam needed to be carefully measured down to the drop. To do otherwise would be to risk becoming another lost victim swept away by the red tide.

He didn't have time to measure it out this time however. He pierced the covering on the vial and drew out a rough estimation of what he needed. Once he had enough, the needle was withdrawn from the liquid and positioned above his arm.

The first time he had done this, it had taken every ounce of nerve he had to pierce the skin. Now there wasn't even the suggestion of hesitation.

Davian stabbed the syringe into his arm, and pushed the Adam directly into the vein.

The effect was immediate. The all-consuming need suddenly vanished, replaced by a euphoric bliss. This wasn't all however, and long years of experience with the drug taught him to brace himself for the next stage.

The rush.

It was unlike anything else in the world. As the chemical cocktail took hold, his blood thundered through his veins. Power beyond the understanding of common men flowed into every part of him with a burning desire for more. In those moments Davian truly felt as though he were a demigod in a mortal shell.

If he was allowed to run wild with the intense sensations, there would be no telling how much damage he could do. However, he was too disciplined to let that happen. As the Adam ran its course through his system, he held every muscle in place. To an outside observer he would have appeared to be simply sitting in a slumped position on the floor.

Eventually the rush faded away into a tantalizing memory of the sensation, taking the voice of temptation with it. When Davian was sure it was over, he struggled to his feet. It was always this way. No matter how many times he injected the concoction into his bloodstream it never seemed to lessen. The intense surge of power burned into him, and then left him feeling utterly drained.

Still, he couldn't allow himself to rest yet. He had a guest to look into.

Before he left his room, he did a quick check to ensure that the unregulated amount of Adam he had taken wasn't having any sudden side effects. There was no telling what it would do in the long run, but at least it didn't seem to be having an immediate drawback.

It took him significantly longer to make his way back out to the living area where he had left the two sisters. When he arrived, he was greeted by a very strange sight. Apparently unable to shift the creature from her position on the floor, Wren had instead elected to bring the couch to her. Several cushions had been placed underneath the big sister, with the largest being under her head.

It took her a moment to notice that Davian had arrived, but when she did her face lit up.

"Mister M!" She cried. "I got everything all ready. This way big sister will be all comfy while you fix her up."

Not having the energy to do anything else, he just nodded. As he sat down next to the fallen sister, it became clear that he had no idea what he was supposed to do. It was difficult enough to fix himself up, so how could he be expected to help someone else?

Davian shook his head to dispel the questions. He couldn't worry about that right now.

First things first, the helmet would have to come off. The large shard of metal embedded in it probably wasn't helping her, and he needed to at least _see _the injuries if he wanted to help.

He could repair the damage to the helmet later, but that would require a bit of time. Something he seemed to have much less of nowadays.

A few moments of searching was all it took to find the release clamps. As they opened, the air inside the suit hissed out of the self-contained environment. Davian took a second to prepare himself mentally for the unveiling. He wasn't sure what to expect, but knowing Rapture it was likely going to be disturbing.

To say he was stunned would have been an understatement.

As the glaring porthole fell away, a very human face was revealed. A tangled mess of dirty, blonde hair sat atop the head of what appeared to be a young girl. There were no twisted metal intrusions in her flesh, or filthy cables implanted in her veins. She was thoroughly unwashed, but otherwise almost normal. If it wasn't for the dazed yellow eyes of a gatherer, she might have passed for human.

All of this was overshadowed by one unsettling fact. She was much younger than he had anticipated.

If his guess was accurate, she appeared to be a year or two _younger_ than he was. Logically speaking he knew she wouldn't be that old, but it was still fairly shocking to see.

Davian suddenly felt much less triumphant about his earlier victory.

This brought him back to his original problem of simply not knowing what he was meant to do. The only injury that was currently visible was the gash on her head from the metal shard. For all he knew she might have dozens of similar wounds under her armor, but he was very hesitant to check.

The last thing he needed was for her to wake up while he was undressing her.

That only left him with one other course of action. He _really_ didn't want to use the first aid kit on her, but what other choice did he have? Wren was watching his every move expectantly, and he had to do something that at least resembled being helpful.

Silently cursing his need to keep her happy, he removed the remaining tin from his belt. It was incredibly handy to have but unless he wanted to risk the awkward low-brow movie situation, he had to use it.

With practiced ease, he popped open the container, drew out the needle, and prepared to make the injection. The tip was hovering directly over the big sister's shoulder when a paranoid thought struck him.

What if the sting was enough to wake her up?

Davian was suddenly very aware of how much this could backfire. If she suddenly woke up, she could easily reach out and snap his neck before he could even react. Even so, if she woke up at _any_ point during, or even after, the procedure it would still probably be fatal.

By now he was fairly certain that some higher power was laughing at him.

Closing his eyes and preparing for the worst, Davian brought the needle down. It pierced the skin without incident, and she still hadn't awoken by the time he had emptied the healing serum and drawn it back out.

Letting out a breath he hadn't known he was holding, he sat back in relief.

"Is that it?" Wren asked with a questioning glance. "Is that gonna make big sister all better again?"

"Yea." Davian assured her. "That should just about do it."

Definitely.

Probably.

Maybe…

Possibly…

In all honesty, he had no idea how she would react to the injection. Maybe it would work fine and he would have a pissed off killing machine under his roof. Maybe it didn't work that way for gatherers and he had just poisoned her.

Davian couldn't decide which outcome would be worse.

Now of course, he had to worry about what she would do if she recovered. He doubted that she would be willing to sit down and have a nice chat about not killing each other, so he had to find a way to keep her from tearing the place up.

Some old rope and rusty chains weren't ideal, but they were all he had on hand. Davian was starting to seriously feel the drain of his earlier hit as he tried to focus enough to tighten the knots in the restraints. Every movement seemed to be growing more sluggish as time went on.

"What's that for?"

Davian blinked several times at the unexpected question. "What was that?" He asked.

"I said, what's that for?" Wren repeated. The look on her face was a mixture of curiosity and concern. "Why are you tying up big sis?"

"Eh…" That wasn't good. If he had been thinking clearly he probably would have realized that she would object to him restraining her sibling.

"It's… It's for her protection." He said. "When she wakes up she's going to be disoriented. This is to keep her from hurting herself accidentally."

_Or from hurting me_. He added silently.

Wren continued to stare at him, a frown growing on her face. Davian started to worry. What was he going to do if she didn't accept his explanation?

After a few tense moments she spoke again.

"Mister M…" She began. He felt beads of sweat forming on the back of his neck. "What does dis… duss… d… diss-owr-eeeh-ent-id mean?"

Davian almost slumped to the ground in a heap as he realized that she hadn't been gearing up for a conflict.

"Disoriented means confused." He explained, trying not to show just how relieved he was. "She'll be waking up in an unfamiliar place and might panic. This is to keep her from running around and getting into trouble."

Wren nodded contemplatively, digesting the new information.

Davian got to his feet after a time, feeling as though he would collapse at any moment. He had put off rest for long enough, and now he couldn't stay awake for much longer.

"I'm headed off to bed." He told her. "Don't stay up too late. You know how cranky you get when you don't get your rest."

"I don't get cranky!" She retorted, pouting.

He just chuckled to himself. "Goodnight." He called, slipping back into his room. Her mirrored goodnight was muffled by the sound of the door closing. He knew Wren wouldn't stay up too late. Whenever she tried to she would inevitably end up passed out in a tiny ball on the floor after just half an hour.

Speaking of passing out in a tiny ball…

Davian fell heavily on his mattress as sleep began dragging him down. He knew that their new house-guest would be an issue, but at the moment he had more pressing concerns.

The last thing he was aware of before sleep claimed him was the sound of Wren talking cheerfully with the unconscious big sister.

* * *

**Just a heads up to anyone reading, I have some school projects and Finals coming up so updates may slow down in the near future. Hopefully it won't be an issue, but if it is then that's why. **


	6. Sleepover

**You ever have one of those moments when you're just typing away, and suddenly _bam!_ You get hit with a big wall of writer's block? That happened about halfway through this chapter. Here's to hoping it doesn't happen again anytime soon.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Bioshock or any of the characters associated with it**

* * *

Epsilon drifted in a sea of darkness. She couldn't remember what she had been doing, but right now it simply didn't seem all that important.

It was sort of nice to relax in this haze. It blocked out the constant weight of her duty to the dead city. Some part of her knew that it was dangerous to let herself be so exposed, but she didn't sense any immediate threats. Right now all that mattered was the nice feeling of resting her head on something soft.

Wait a minute.

Something soft?

Under her head?

That shouldn't be there, her helmet would have prevented her from feeling any object that she was laying on. As she tried to focus, she began to notice other things as well. Her nose was assaulted by the smells of the city around her, subjecting her to the rotten odor of death and decay.

In her foggy half-conscious state, Epsilon tried to make sense of the information. It was fairly obvious that her helmet was off, but why was that? Had she removed it at some point? What had happened to cause that?

As she struggled to remember, a peculiar sound greeted her ears. Nearby, she picked up the noise of tiny footsteps and childish humming.

In an instant, everything came roaring back to her.

The splicer, the fight, the explosion, and… Nothing. That was when the darkness had set in. She had been caught in the blast and knocked unconscious.

And her sister… What had happened to her?

With an incredible amount of effort, Epsilon forced her eyelids to open so that she could see where she was. Almost immediately, her attention was drawn to the figure directly across from her.

It was the same little sister that she had seen the splicer try to take. Despite what must have been a very traumatic event, she seemed to be none the worse for wear. As she stared, her younger sibling noticed that she was awake.

"Big sis! You're all better!" She shouted, dashing over to Epsilon's side. "I knew mister M would fix you. Wait here, I'll go get him."

Mister M? Who was mister M? She didn't have time to question the identity of this stranger before the girl was up and running to where this 'mister M' presumably was hiding.

Epsilon made to go after her, but as she tried to rise a clanking of metal signaled that she couldn't. Looking down, she realized for the first time that someone had wrapped her arms and legs in a clumsy assortment of metal chains.

The big sister let out a shriek of indignation. Who the hell had the sheer nerve to tie _her_ up!? She didn't know whether to be enraged that someone wanted to keep her subdued, or insulted that they thought some measly metal links could hold her.

She decided on both.

Setting her jaw, she began to strain her limbs against the chains that held them. Little by little she felt the rusty metal begin to give under her strength. Just before she could break free entirely, she was distracted by the sound of voices.

"Come see! She's awake now, hurry!"

"Oh… Wonderful. Here I was just thinking about what would happen when she woke up. Let's hope my guess wasn't accurate."

A beautifully cunning plan began to take shape in Epsilon's mind. She could use her current position to her advantage. Whoever this was thought she was tied up. She would let him believe that, and the moment he got too close…

Smiling to herself, she relaxed the pressure on the chains so that they were no longer in immediate danger of breaking. She would teach this man to respect the agents of the family.

She didn't have to wait long, and the man who accompanied her sister was the last one she expected to see.

It was him.

The very same splicer that had tried to take the girl away was now walking side by side with her. She had assumed that he was killed in the blast, but apparently he kept up the trend of being infuriatingly difficult to get rid of.

Epsilon's mouth dropped open in shock. There was no way that this could be the one the girl referred to so fondly! He was a monster! No, he was worse; monsters didn't start out as people.

Her instincts screamed at her to shatter the pitiful chains holding her down and tear this _thing_ apart. She would have too, if not for one small thing.

As she watched, the little sister took his hand and looked up at him with an expression of pure adoration.

An expression reserved for a protector.

Epsilon felt her blood grow cold. Somehow this freak had managed to convince the child that he was her guardian. The scene was so sickeningly _wrong_ that she felt bile rise in the back of her throat.

If she broke free and killed him now, she could do irreparable damage to the trust her sister held for her. For the first time in years, she didn't know what to do.

"Well, look who's finally decided to join us." The splicer's voice sounded unusually weary. She had expected something a bit more sinister from the one who managed to survive their fight, but he didn't seem to be overly threatening at the moment.

"Are you just going to sit there staring?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. "You can understand me right?"

Epsilon's eyes narrowed in a glare as a warning growl rumbled in her chest. If he thought she would fall for the harmless act, he was dead wrong.

The two of them remained still, regarding each other while a very confused little sister tried to understand their expressions.

The splicer stood roughly six feet tall, with dull-red hair that had been cut short. His skin was pale and sickly, giving him the look of a walking corpse. Surprisingly enough, he had no tumors or growths like most other splicers.

His eyes were what held her attention the most. He had a calculating gaze that was constantly sizing up potential threats. Epsilon knew that look well, it was the one worn by those who always expected a fight.

If only she could oblige.

After a period, he turned away from her gaze.

"All right then." He began, sitting down on a nearby couch. "You don't look like you enjoy this situation, and I can assure you that I don't either. So here's how it's going to work. You're going to stay tied up until I'm sure you won't try to tear my limbs off again. Once we move past that, I'll let you out and you can go back to butchering homeless people or whatever it is you do in your free time. How does that sound?"

She continued glaring silently. He was a fool if he thought she was going to let him off that easily. Not only had he harmed an enforcer of the family, he had corrupted the mind of one of their gatherers.

When she gave no response, he let out a sigh, and rubbed his forehead. "Wren." He said, turning to the little sister. "Would you please talk some sense into our houseguest?"

The girl sat down next to her and gave her a pat on the head.

"Awww, it's all right big sis." She assured. "Mister M is really nice and stuff. He's a magician! He can make himself vanish, and then un-vanish somewhere else!"

Epsilon's glare only deepened. Was that how he had tricked her into hanging around with him? By using some cheap parlor tricks that any Houdini splicer could replicate?

Wren continued trying to pacify her, but she tuned out the girl's attempts. Right now she needed to figure out how to get rid of the splicer without alienating the one she was supposed to protect. It wouldn't be easy. She would need to do it quickly, quietly, and retrieve the little sister before she figured out what had happened.

Settling back into her bed of cushions, Epsilon prepared to start the inevitable waiting game. She could be patient. Sooner or later an opportunity would arise. And when it did…

She would be ready.

* * *

All things considered, the next few days were highly uneventful. Epsilon would wake up, wait for the others, and proceed to lie in place for the duration of the day. Every now and then Wren would try to spoon-feed her some unidentifiable slop that the splicer claimed was food. She would eat it of course, more to spite him than anything. It was clear he didn't like having to use resources on her, so she was happy to make him as uncomfortable as possible.

Her opportunity hadn't come yet either. Wren was always either by his side or nearby, so breaking out wouldn't get her anywhere.

What's worse, she feared the splicer might be getting suspicious. He hadn't seen her struggle against the chains once, and each time he looked at her his gaze was warier than before. She had assumed that he would be too ignorant to notice anything unusual, but this apparently wasn't the case.

He tried speaking to her occasionally. It was always the same things. He would check to see if she was ready to comply, and she would respond with silence. She had no other answer to give, since she had no intention of playing his game.

Nothing changed, but the tension in his household continued to rise. Epsilon had never been in a situation that had felt so… _thick_ with unpleasantness. Every time the two of them were in a room together, it felt like they were standing on a trip-mine. Even Wren couldn't remain oblivious to the issues. She tried in her own way to ease the friction, but she didn't understand why it was there in the first place. After all, they were both supposed to be her protectors weren't they?

To make things even more miserable, she had to use the bathroom VERY badly. Her body was able to process much more of the stuff that went into it thanks to her Adam slug, but after a few days even her superior system had to get rid of waste products.

All of this added up to make her mood particularly volatile, and today the splicer had decided to antagonize her further.

She had been napping lightly for no other reason than it was the only thing she could do, when the grating sound of wood on metal forced her into awareness. Turning her head, she spotted the splicer dragging a chair into the room and positioning it in front of her. He took a seat, and for a while the two of them simply stared.

"How long are you going to keep this up?" He asked at last. "You have to know by now that I'm willing to let you go. All I want is for you to leave without killing anybody. In case you've forgotten it was you who attacked me."

Epsilon remained silent as always. Her defiant gaze bore into him making it very clear that she had no intention of compromise. This was a fight she _would _win no matter how long it took. If Wren wasn't sitting in the other room right now she would have snapped the chains and ended him then and there.

"You know…" He said. "You could at least show a little gratitude. I did go out of my way to ensure that you didn't keel over when those barrels exploded in your face."

She just rolled her eyes. Any damage from the blast would have been healed quickly enough by her slug, and she knew from her sister's description of the events that all he had done was give her an injection. That spot itched like crazy by the way. Just another reason for her to want him dead.

Letting her gaze drift, Epsilon's attention was suddenly drawn to a single object on the far side of the room. It took inhuman willpower to keep her face from betraying it, but she had finally spotted exactly what she needed.

Lying amidst a pile of discarded papers was Wren's harvester. The girl must have dropped it there after their last gathering outing.

Cautiously, Epsilon reached out with her telekinesis and was rewarded by the needle shaking slightly. She hardly dared to breathe as the tip slowly shifted until it was pointed at the splicer's back. He was currently looking into the distance, lost in whatever thoughts were going through his head.

She would need to be quick. If he had time to scream or cry out, Wren would likely come running. The shot would have to be instantly fatal. Once he was dead, she would take her sister away from this place and back to where she would be safe. The girl might be broken up for a while about leaving him behind, but she would get over it eventually.

Tasting victory, Epsilon began to raise the harvester into the air.

"Oh, that reminds me." The splicer suddenly said, snapping his fingers. The unexpected phrase broke her concentration, and only her quick reactions halted the needle before it clattered to the floor.

"I have something else for you to glare at. Wait here." With that, he got to his feet and left the room.

Epsilon wanted to scream in frustration. She was _so close_ to being rid of him and he just left!? Closing her eyes, she forced herself to calm down. The harvester was still there, and he would be back. One way or another, this would all be over soon.

At the sound of his footsteps, she opened her eyes and got ready to endure whatever mockery he had decided to subject her to.

Nothing could have prepared her for what she saw.

As he stepped into the room, he carried her helmet under his arm. She had assumed that he had taken it as a trophy after their fight, and she had intended to take it back once he was dead. Why was he bringing it out now? Was it to gloat? That seemed oddly overconfident compared to how he had been reacting recently.

"This." He said, setting it down. "Is for you. It was banged up a bit and I've been working to get it fixed. I meant to give it to you sooner, but I wanted to make sure all the damage was fixed properly since you might end up going underwater with it on. Structural weaknesses can be a real pain when you're drowning."

Even if her vocal cords hadn't been the shredded mess that they were, Epsilon wouldn't have been able to find her voice. She wanted to pretend that he was lying to her, but she could easily see where the helmet had been cracked open and welded shut again. She could only assume that he had used an incinerate plasmid to do so.

But _why_ would he do that? Did he think it would win her over? She couldn't find any logical reason to explain why he went through the trouble of repairing it.

"Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go work on some other business. You can hang onto the helmet until you're ready to leave."

Without another word, the splicer got up and exited the room, leaving behind a very confused and very conflicted big sister.

* * *

That night, Davian lay in his bed battling with his usual insomnia.

The metal creature in his living room was becoming a major issue. Not only was she a threat, but she was using up valuable food and water that they simply couldn't spare. She was a draining their reserves faster than he liked, and would force them to leave their safe house sooner.

If she let them leave at all, that is. So far she hadn't shown any sort of cooperation.

Davian's concerns were interrupted by the sound of his door being inched open. This didn't worry him too much. Wren had crept into his room many times in the past after a bad dream had broken the peace of her sleep.

Something was different this time, however. As he listened, there was no patter of tiny feet moving across the floor towards him. There were no tears, or pleas for comfort from a fearful child. The only thing he could hear was the slight creak of the floor as the intruder drew closer.

There was only one thing in Rapture that could move that quietly…

Davian's eyes shot open, and he was assaulted by a sight directly out of his worst nightmares. Directly above him was a blood-red porthole. His body went unnaturally still as her gaze fixed him in place.

She had broken out of the chains. On some level he had known that she could, but he had allowed himself to hope that she was truly trapped.

All he could do was stare up in horrified anticipation of what was about to happen. Any minute now, she would raise the harvester on her arm, and he would be forced to fight for his life again.

But the needle didn't rise.

After an indiscernible amount of time, she turned away from him and stepped back through the doorway.

Davian watched her go in silence, his heart beating a mile a minute. When he was sure that it wasn't some trick, he turned to stare at the ceiling.

He didn't have the slightest idea what that was about, but he knew one thing.

He wasn't getting any sleep tonight.


	7. Nice to Meet You

**This one is a bit shorter than the previous ones, but the next chapter is hopefully where things start to get interesting.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Bioshock or any of the characters associated with it**

* * *

"_Don't just stand there you blithering idiots! Find him!" _

_The command was answered by a dozen different confirmations, and cries of fury. From his hiding spot, Davian could hear them charging around looking for him. He had never been so scared in his life._

_The bundle in his arms began to squirm again, causing a fresh wave of panic to grip him. His hand latched onto the little girl's mouth just in time to prevent a scream from giving them away._

"_Shut up!" He hissed, down at the terrified child. "Do you want them to kill us both?" _

_His words only served to drive her further into her hysteria. Davian could hear her muffled cries for her daddy, who would never be coming back. _

_Why had he been so stupid!_

_It had all been so simple at first. Follow Benny's hit squad, and scavenge whatever scraps they left behind. It was easy, safe, and almost guaranteed to net him some good supplies. At least, it had been up until they took on the bouncer…_

_The poor metal man hadn't stood a chance. Their entire group had opened fire from different directions, effectively disorientating him and securing their victory. By the time he had figured out where the shots were coming from, he was already dead. Davian had remained nearby, watching the fight from the shadows. He felt a slight amount of pity for the giant, but it certainly wasn't anything that he would have lost sleep over. _

_Then he saw the kid. _

_The little sister clung to her dead protector as though her tears could convince the reaper to bring him back. Instead of running for her life when the splicers closed in, she only started crying harder. Their grins of anticipation showed exactly what they intended to do with her._

_Davian didn't know whether it was the Adam messing with his judgment, or just how pitifully helpless she looked, but something in him snapped. He wouldn't let them kill her too. _

_The plan, if it could be called such, was to simply teleport in, start shooting flames, grab the girl, and get out. It had worked for the most part also. The splicers under Benny's command hadn't been expecting a new threat to suddenly pop out of nowhere, and by the time they figured out the danger two of them had caught fire. _

_It was all going well right up until he jumped away with her in hand. To put it simply, she started screaming like an emergency siren. The noise had told the splicers exactly where he was, and they were quick to exact their revenge. Two bullets had burrowed into Davian's leg before he had the chance to vanish._

_Now here he was, cowering behind a pillar and praying that they didn't find him. All the while his leg was leaking blood into a puddle on the floor. He couldn't focus enough for another jump, and already his vision was going dark. _

_The sound of boots on metal told him that the chase was over. _

"_You've got something that doesn't belong to you." Benny said, glaring down at him. The shotgun in his hands was leveled at Davian's chest. He couldn't possibly miss from this range._

_Ironically enough, it was now that the girl stopped struggling. The peril of her situation had finally set in, and the only sound she could make was a strangled whimper._

"_Hand her over, and I'll make it quick." _

_Davian glared back in what was likely the last thing he would ever do. "Piss off." He said, with as much conviction as he could muster. "I'm sure you can find some gutter skank if you're that desperate." _

_Benny's expression turned several degrees darker. _

"_Not the answer I was looking for."_

_The shotgun gave a click as the trigger was depressed, before an explosion wiped away all other sensation._

* * *

Davian slowly woke from his fitful sleep. Despite his initial assumptions, he had managed to drift off after several hours of listening for the slightest disturbance from their new roommate.

Groaning, he rose up off his mattress while stretching his stiff limbs. The night hadn't been kind, and he was really missing the days when he used to have a real bed.

Eventually, he managed to get dressed in the same ratty old clothing that he had been wearing for the better part of half a decade now. It was one of only three sets of cloths he owned, and currently the only one without holes or bloodstains.

Davian spared a moment to do a self-examination in the badly cracked mirror he had propped up in a corner. His chin was getting a bit fuzzy from lack of shaving, but other than that everything seemed to be normal.

_You're stalling._ He thought to himself.

It was true, he was stalling. In all likelihood the big sister would be gone when he left the room, but there was still the slim chance that she had never left. If she was still out there, he had no idea what might happen. Had her earlier visitation been a warning? A challenge? Was she just waiting for a rematch?

Davian didn't know, and he _really _didn't want to find out. Odds were if she wanted another go, he wouldn't be saved by a lucky blast again.

_You won't get anywhere by hiding in your room forever._ Probably not, but was that any reason not to try?

Taking a breath to calm his nerves, he stepped out of his room and into the safe house. It became immediately apparent that she hadn't left.

The big sister was currently sitting with Wren, watching intently as the girl displayed her vast collection of drawings.

"And this one is the time mister M taught me how to hide from the bad people." She said, pointing to one of the papers. "We were so sneaky! None of them even saw us. It was scary, but it was also really fun."

The big sister nodded her head, while giving a hum of approval. The scene seemed oddly tame to Davian. A massively powerful metal monster was currently playing babysitter to a little girl, with no killing or horrible violence involved. He almost didn't want to interrupt.

"So you're still here?" It was more of a statement than a question, but it had the desired effect. Both of their heads turned up at the sound of his voice. The sister's helmet hid her expression, but the tension in her stance made it clear that she was expecting trouble. As he watched, one of her arms wrapped protectively around Wren's body.

Davian resisted the urge to reach up and rub his forehead. It was clear that if anything was going to be done, he would need to do it himself.

"Well…" He began. "Since you seem intent on staying, maybe we could work a few things out." She gave no indication that she had even heard him. "First off, I won't try to kill you if you don't try to kill me, deal?"

After an extended pause, she gave the barest movement of her head in what might have been a nod. Tension flowed out of Davian's body as he let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.

_Finally, progress._ It was still apparent that she neither trusted, nor liked, him, but it was better than nothing.

"Ok then." He said. "In that case, let me introduce myself since we really didn't get well acquainted earlier. My name is Davian, and that's Wren." He gestured towards the girl in her arms. "Do you have a name… or anything like that?"

* * *

Epsilon wanted to scoff. 'Davian'? The name was overly dramatic, more suited to some playwright or politician than a non-descript drug addict.

"Do you have a name… or anything like that?"

_That_ killed her sense of humor. No. Of course she didn't have a name. Even if she did, it wasn't like she was able to tell him what it was. But before she could shake her head, Wren cut in.

"I know! I know!" She said, jumping up and down. "Her name is E, see!" At this, she pointed excitedly at Epsilon's gauntlet.

Sure enough, engraved into the glove was what looked like a malformed letter E. She knew it was the symbol for the number Epsilon, her designation, but had no way of explaining that to her younger sibling.

"E, huh?" Davian asked, raising an eyebrow. "Are you all named after letters of the alphabet?"

She rolled her eyes even though he couldn't see it. He wasn't in much of a place to judge after being constantly referred to as 'mister M'.

"I'm going to hazard a guess and say that you probably won't want to go around being called E." She just stared dryly at him. Truly this splicer's grasp of the obvious was above and beyond that of his peers.

He started scratching the back of his neck, looking decidedly uncomfortable. Epsilon got the feeling that she wasn't going to like whatever he was going to say next.

She was right.

"Then I guess the only thing we can do is give you a name."

She flinched back, staring openmouthed behind her helmet. _Give_ her a name? Why would she _want_ a name!? She had a number! And a damn good one too. Who else could go around saying they were Protectorate M2 Epsilon-04? Nobody, that's who.

Davian seemed entirely oblivious to the reaction he had caused. "Maybe we could write up a list, and you could pick one you like? Or would you prefer we just start making suggestions?"

Epsilon growled threateningly, while balling her hands into fists. She unconsciously moved her harvesting needle in his direction.

Davian backed away a bit, raising his hands in a gesture of submission. "Come on now." He said. "If you're going to be staying for a while we need to be able to call you something. What's wrong with having a name anyway?"

What was wrong? She didn't want a name, that's what's wrong! She gave up her name to become a protector of the family. To take a new one just felt like it would be betraying that sacrifice. Still, he didn't seem to get it, and Wren had already started writing down whatever name ideas she could come up with. Sighing, Epsilon realized that she wouldn't be able to get out of this easily.

Sitting down heavily on the couch, she gestured dismissively towards him. Let him call her whatever he wanted, she would still be Epsilon regardless.

"Ok…" He said, unsure of whether this was a good sign or not. "Just give me a moment to come up with something."

Wren looked up from her messy writing, waiting as his brow furled in concentration. Was he actually putting some thought into this? Did he honestly think it was important? It's not like her new name was a big deal, it was just something for them to call her. Still, Epsilon found herself wondering what he would choose.

"I think I've got one." He said. Oddly enough, he seemed a bit hesitant. "What about Amelia? How does that sound?"

She just shrugged. She had no opinion on the name one way or another; if that was the one he wanted that was just fine.

"I like it." Wren chirped. "It sounds really pretty."

Looking back and forth between the two of them, he nodded. "All right then, nice to meet you Amelia. Make yourself at home I guess, there's not much I can actually do to stop you. Just please try not to smash anything unless it's absolutely necessary."

With that, he edged his way past her into another room. Wren went back to drawing, while Epsilon mouthed the name silently.

Amelia…

It wasn't as bad as it could have been. A bit soft for her tastes, but still useable. Though something did seem a bit off, it was almost as if the name had some significance judging by his reaction to using it.

She decided not to worry about it. A name couldn't hurt her, and if it held any meaning it couldn't be _that_ important. He wouldn't have offered it if it was.

At least, that's what she assumed.

* * *

Davian sat at his table, closely examining the maps he owned. There was a lot of Rapture he couldn't speak for, but these helped out quite a bit.

He couldn't make the b-_Amelia_ leave, so their supplies would run out even faster than he had originally planned for. Even so, having her on their, or more specifically Wren's, side could be a major asset. There were few things in the city that would willingly mess with her.

For the first time in a very long while moving didn't seem like a death sentence.

Still, he needed to plan out where they would be going. No amount of Adam enriched muscle would help if they couldn't find a destination.

His eyes moved back to one section in particular. It wasn't the closest, but the more he thought about it, the better it seemed.

Pauper's Drop.

During the time of Lamb, it had been one of the family's central command areas. That had all changed when Delta came tearing through. From what Davian heard the metal giant had single-handedly leveled the place, killing off just about everything in his path.

This was a good thing. If the local splicer population had been wiped out, it was unlikely that they would recover to any semblance of their former numbers. Not to mention the fact that there were already homes and supply areas set up in the Drop.

It was not without risk, however. The journey would be a fairly long one through unfamiliar territory. They would even need to take one of the underwater trains to get past some of the collapsed tunnels.

All in all it was dangerous, but it was still the best plan he could come up with.

Davian rolled the maps back up and stored them away. He would still have to explain the situation to Wren and Amelia. Neither of them seemed aware of their current predicament.

Once he did that, there would be the issue of what to bring. They wouldn't be able to transport everything, so only essentials would be salvaged.

Everything else…

Well, Davian had no intention of leaving it for other splicers to scavenge. It was unlikely that they would ever be back here, so anything that was left behind would probably have to be burned. There was no sense in arming the enemy.

With that plan in mind, he set to work.


	8. All aboard

**Disclaimer: I don't own Bioshock or any of the characters associated with it**

* * *

It was strange. You never really know what is important to you until you're forced to pick and choose what to bring with you.

Thankfully for Davian, there was very little that he owned in the first place. Other than the bare essentials, he had never gone through all that much trouble to acquire things for himself. The only luxury items he bothered with were usually gifts for Wren.

Right now, all the items he owned were laid out on his mattress.

Two tattered sets of clothing.

Three first aid kits, reserved for emergencies only.

Several days' worth of dried and canned foods.

A large jug of drinkable water.

And most importantly of all, six vials of Adam with complimentary syringes.

Going over the list again in his head, he made sure that nothing vital had been left out. Once he was sure everything was in order, he piled the objects into the bag that he would be using to transport them.

Davian gave a slight grunt as he hoisted the bag up and tied it across his shoulders. The weight brought back uncomfortable memories of carrying his newest companion home.

_Look on the bright side._ He thought. _At least this time you won't have to listen to a little voice in your head._

Shaking his head, he made his way into the living room where the others were waiting.

Wren was unusually subdued. When he had explained to her that they would have to leave their home behind, she hadn't been happy. This was where she had grown to feel safe and secure; to leave would be to invite danger and other bad things.

Her appearance was only made more pitiable by the meager possessions she was carrying. On her back was a bag very similar to the one he was carrying, on a much smaller scale. It contained everything she could fit in; ranging from drawings, to buttons, to a stuffed animal that had certainly seen better days.

It was anyone's guess what species it had once belonged to.

Nearby, Amelia stood impassively. Throughout the whole affair, she had stayed in the background, seemingly unconcerned with the prospect of moving to another part of the city. Davian had asked for her opinion at one point just to get some kind of reaction from her. Oddly enough, she had started in surprise, standing unsure for several moments before shrugging. He got the feeling that she wasn't used to getting a say in decisions.

The center of the room was dominated by a pile of assorted junk and supplies that they simply couldn't bring. The furniture was the most obvious; even with a big sister helping they wouldn't have been able to carry a couch all the way to Pauper's Drop. It had all been piled together so that it could be burned in one go.

Seeing it all now, Davian felt a wave of hesitation. He knew that they wouldn't be back to retrieve these things, but destroying them still felt wrong.

Taking a deep breath, he turned to Wren.

"Are you ready?" He asked. "Do you have everything you need? There's no going back once it starts."

She nodded sadly, burrowing into Amelia's side so that she wouldn't have to watch the contents of their home go up in flames.

Davian turned back to the pile, calling up a ball of fire in his palm. With a flick of his wrist he sent the orb into the base of the pile, igniting it on contact. The flames lapped at the objects slowly at first, almost hesitantly, but soon began racing over every available surface.

"Come on." Davian said to the two girls. "Let's get out of here before the whole place burns down."

With that, they exited through the doorway and onto the balcony. The only sounds that could be heard were the crackling of flame and an occasional sniffle from Wren.

After several more moments, he took the child's hand in his own. He then offered his free hand to Amelia.

"It's a long drop." He said. "Take my hand and I can get us down without breaking anything."

Her red porthole examined the offered appendage, but she made no move to grab it. Instead, she moved to the lip of the platform and looked down. Davian only had a split second to register what was happening before the big sister crouched, and leapt from the ledge.

With a cry, he and Wren rushed to the edge and watched her rapid descent. As she neared the ground, he covered the little sister's eyes fearing that they were watching a suicide.

He hadn't needed to worry.

Amelia hit the ground rolling, and stood up entirely unfazed by a fall that would have killed an ordinary person. She turned her head back up to look at the two of them expectantly.

"Showoff." Davian muttered under his breath. "All right, hang on Wren I'll get us down." The girl gave a mumble of acknowledgement, slightly annoyed that she didn't get to see her older sibling's landing.

With a flash of smoke, and a blast of air, the two of them disappeared into the mists only to reappear at Amelia's side.

Getting his bearings, Davian turned to the two. "It's a long way from here to the Drop. Everyone stick together, now let's get going."

* * *

Epsilon felt as though she were drifting in an ocean current. Nothing felt real, and yet each time she opened her eyes her situation was validated once more.

Here she was, after being alone for so long, walking side by side with one of her little sisters. She had long ago given up hope that any of them were left, but somehow she had been united with what may be the very last one.

But of course there was a catch…

She turned her head slightly to catch a glimpse of the young man. Her helmet masked the movement and prevented him from seeing her.

Davian. She didn't have the slightest idea what to make of him. He was a splicer certainly, but he had shown no desire to harm Wren. What's more, he had actually repaired her damaged helmet after their fight. He was an anomaly, a being that simply couldn't exist, and yet here he was.

Part of her still wanted to reach out and strike him down. It would have been the simplest and safest rout to take, but something held her back. Was it because he was protecting Wren? Did she feel some sort of obligation to him? Or was it just a lingering sense of embarrassment after she had let him get the better of her in a fight?

Epsilon let her gaze drift back to the ground in front of her. He wasn't all that important in the grand scheme of things. All that really mattered was keeping her sibling safe. If the girl was fond of this strange creature, then she would let him live.

At least, she would for now.

Now however, she was faced with a new problem. Mother's last orders had been to guard over the remains of Adonis Resort, and she was getting further and further away from it. At first she had justified this by thinking that she would eventually return with Wren in hand, but now…

Something told her that she wouldn't be coming back. Her two major loyalties were in direct conflict with each other, and she wasn't sure which was more important. Surely the Family would understand that she had to abandon her post to keep her charge safe, wouldn't they? No matter how many times she thought that, a slight niggling doubt remained.

A slight tug on her arm brought Epsilon out of her thoughts. Looking down, she saw Wren gazing at her with a hopeful expression.

"E? Could you carry me? I'm getting tired."

E? What was- oh she was talking about the symbol. Epsilon was more than happy to give the girl a ride. Kneeling down, she let Wren clamber up onto her back and into the cage that had been attached to her armor for just such a situation.

"Thank you!" She said, patting her on the back to let her know she was ready to go.

Epsilon gave a slight hum as she stood back up, and got underway. Davian stood a short distance ahead, looking back at the two of them. The expression on his face was so strange that she paused for a moment. It was the oddest mixture of wariness, suspicion, and concern. His body seemed to be pulled tight, in preparation for something. It was then that she realized what he was thinking.

He thought she was going to run away with Wren.

She could too, couldn't she?

Epsilon's heart began to beat a little faster when she realized that there was almost no chance of him being able to keep up if she simply ran away as fast as she could. It was the perfect solution; she would get her sister, he would get to live, and she wouldn't have to bother with the conflicts that he would inevitably cause. Her leech gave a slight squirm in her stomach at the thought of having Wren all to herself.

And yet, for some reason she was still here. She hadn't taken off running when the moment had presented itself so perfectly. Why was that? It must be because of the fact that her sibling would be sad to see him go. There was simply no other explanation she could come up with. Surely.

With that in mind, she progressed until they were standing beside each other again. He seemed tentative at first, as though she might simply be toying with him, but he eventually gave a nod and continued forward.

This was the right path to follow. Epsilon was sure of it now. With Wren on her back, she was certain that Adonis Resort was unimportant by comparison. She would take the girl wherever she needed to go and protect her from anyone who dared to try and harm her.

A peculiar sensation ran across her face as this thought crossed her mind. The unfamiliar feeling confused her until she realized what it was.

For the first time in years, Protectorate M2 Epsilon-04 was smiling.

* * *

Davian couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. For the past half hour their little group had been walking towards the train station that would take them to Pauper's Drop, and yet they hadn't run into any real difficulties. The most trouble they had was taking a couple detours when they came to a part of Rapture that had crumbled to the point of being inaccessible.

No matter how much he strained his eyes and ears, he couldn't detect any signs of life from the world around him. There was no sign of the splicer population that should have been present. He hadn't expected to be stopped at every turn, after all some of the lunatics would still be sane enough to recognize the danger of fighting a big sister, but the total lack of resistance was starting to worry him.

_It isn't far now._ Davian thought to himself. _Just stay focused. Maybe lady luck decided to cut you a break today._ Somehow, he sincerely doubted that.

Before long, they found themselves directly in front of the door leading to the station. The metal bulkhead would open up to a moderately sized room containing the train, and they would be home free. At least, that was the theory.

As he stood before the entrance, he couldn't help but feel a wave of trepidation. Some primal instinct warned him that things were not going to stay simple once they were through.

Davian took that moment to turn towards Amelia. "Be ready for anything." He said. "There's no telling what might be waiting on the other side."

The big sister gave a slight nod, and tensed for action. On her back, Wren ducked down into the cage so as to be better protected from the looming conflict.

Davian steeled himself, expecting a confrontation, and opened the door.

He wasn't disappointed.

As soon as the bulkhead fell away, he was greeted by a mechanical whirring and clanking that signaled auto-turrets being activated. With reactions honed by a lifetime of dodging death, he lunged to the side behind the wall as a deadly swarm of bullets flew through the spot he had been standing in moments ago.

He hardly had time to regain his composure before Amelia was dashing through the doorway, screeching out her battle cry. Both turrets turned to face her, and got ready to fire off another salvo at the new target.

Acting quickly, Davian summoned a ball of flame in his palm and launched it towards the gun emplacements. The fiery projectile soared over Amelia's head before impacting one of the turrets, setting it alight. The intense heat caused the gunpowder inside the machine to ignite, firing off bullets still inside their casings and destroying the gun in a shower of metal and fire.

The flurry of movement caused the other turret's targeting systems to hesitate for a single second, allowing Amelia to close in and smash the metal contraption with a vicious kick. The body of the turret was torn free and launched across the room, shattering as it impacted the far wall.

Both Davian and Amelia surveyed the destruction, alert for any other threats. When it became clear that nothing else was about to jump out, they relaxed slightly.

"Looks like they were waiting for us." Davian commented. "There will probably be more up ahead. Do you think we should go back and look for another way around?" He was loath to turn around when they were so close, but survival was more important than speed.

Amelia just growled behind her mask, stalking further into the room. She clearly didn't think that a few splicers were all that much of a threat.

_It must be nice to have bullet-proof armor._ Davian thought idly.

Seeing no other alternatives, he followed her. The room was poorly lit, with the image of the train standing out against the blackness. It was far from shiny, but it was intact and looked to be in working order. What a tragedy it would have been to come all this way to just find a broken train.

Suddenly, the silence was broken by the static sound of a loudspeaker coming online.

"_Well look at what we have here. A little birdie told me that you two were looking for a train, and it looks like I got the last one."_

Amelia's head whipped around, frantically searching for the source of the voice. Davian on the other hand, immediately took cover behind a nearby stack of crates. He didn't want to be out in the open when the bullets started flying.

"_I should really thank the two of you for offing Orson and his boys. They've been real pests. Always looking to take what don't belong to them."_

Davian risked a peek out from his hiding place.

"Orson?" He questioned. "Who the heck is Orson? I've never met anyone by that name."

"_You might not have, but your big nasty friend did. She tore him and his junkies into meat confetti just a few days ago. Real nasty piece of work that was."_

Davian was about to ask what that had to do with their current issue, when the voice cut him off.

"_Killin' him was a great favor you did for me, but I'm afraid I can't just let you take my train. It's more out of principal than anything, so don't take it personally. I don't want people thinking they can walk in and take my stuff."_

Neither Davian nor Amelia were able to pinpoint exactly where the voice was coming from. They knew he had to be nearby if he could see them, but he was well hidden. This was a problem. If they couldn't see the threat, there was little they could do to prepare for it other than sit and wait.

"_Anyway, thanks for getting rid of the neighbors. I've got a friend for you to play with, try to keep him entertained. He doesn't get to stretch his legs all that often."_

With that, the loudspeaker switched off with a grainy crackle. As Davian contemplated the meaning of his parting words, a door on the opposite side of the room opened up.

His body froze in shock at the sight it presented.

Chained in a small side-room was an Alpha Series big daddy. The behemoth strained against its restraints, letting out a bloodcurdling roar. Davian could only watch in horror as the chains keeping it in place fell away.

The Alpha Series didn't waste a moment of its new found freedom. With the massive drill on its arm whirring to life, it charged.


	9. Tickets please

**Disclaimer: I don't own Bioshock or any of the characters associated with it**

* * *

Epsilon was frozen.

Her limbs refused to respond as she stared into the face of her darkest nightmare. The beast's metallic visor glowed furiously in the dimly lit room, bringing her terror to life. In that moment, she was back watching her sisters die.

She was staring at the face of Subject Delta.

She was wrenched out of her panic as the chains holding the Alpha series were released. As the monster charged her battle instincts kicked in, forcing her to leap to the side out of harm's way. The rogue daddy careened past her, smashing through boxes and abandoned equipment.

Epsilon growled furiously at herself for her moment of weakness. This _wasn't _Delta. That abomination was gone, and he was never coming back. This was just another feral creature that was in her way.

Still, just because it wasn't her most despised enemy didn't mean she wouldn't take pleasure in putting it down. She had never been able to look at an Alpha Series with anything other than hate after the events that tore the family apart.

Hoisting Wren off her back, she set the girl down where she would be safe during the fight. Carrying her while battling a big daddy would only serve to hinder Epsilon's movements.

A thundering roar brought her attention back to her opponent. The Alpha series stood at the end of a trail of debris from its previous charge. The drill on its arm spun murderously as it issued a challenge.

Epsilon screeched out her answer and the two titans lunged forward; needle and drill eager to bite into each other's flesh.

The berserk creature hurtled towards her at a speed that defied its massive size. The arm mounted weapon swung down at her with all of the beast's incredible strength. At the very last moment, she put on an extra burst of speed and dove underneath the deadly metal appendage.

With only a couple inches to spare, Epsilon rolled underneath the drill and into striking distance. The weapon crashed into the ground, sending massive chunks of flooring in all directions and leaving her opponent vulnerable. She put all her weight behind her attack as she drove the needle forward, intent on piercing the daddy's heart and ending the fight before it truly began.

The Alpha Series had different ideas. As she struck, it twisted to the side enough to avoid a fatal blow. Epsilon's harvester pierced the thick armor of the maddened giant, but the movement caused the needle to jam painfully against its ribs rather than slip past them.

The big daddy's roar of agony shook the walls as it howled out its rage. Epsilon had no chance to free her arm before its drill swung again with hate-fueled power.

The enormous weapon impacted her side, sending her careening through the air. Her flight was halted as the ground rose to meet her. Epsilon skidded across the floor like a stone before bashing into the ruined remains of the turret Davian had destroyed earlier.

She struggled to her feet as the room spun around her, everything blurring around the edges. Forcing herself back into a ready position, she turned back to face her opponent. The blow hadn't penetrated her armor, but it certainly hurt like hell.

The Alpha Series raised its drill once more, the engine screaming to life as it spun at blinding speed. It didn't get a chance to charge again, however.

Previously forgotten by both combatants, Davian materialized behind the metal man and launched a trio of fire blasts at its exposed back.

The big daddy was caught off guard by the sudden attack, and was unable to get out of the way in time. All three shots struck it dead on, causing explosions of white-hot flames to latch onto the juggernaut in a sadistic embrace.

The daddy roared again, pain and fury driving what little sanity it had left into oblivion. Blinded by the hungry flames, it charged Davian intent on grinding his bones to powder.

The splicer simply vanished in a blast of smoke, causing the monster to hurtle forward into a wall. The already enraged titan defied reason by flying even further into a rage, its now-perpetual scream reaching earsplitting levels.

Neither Davian nor Epsilon could have prepared for its next attack. Having extinguished the tormenting flames, it sighted Davian's reappearance and grabbed a piece of concrete thrown up by its earlier attacks. With deadly accuracy, it hurled the rock-hard debris faster than the eye could follow. Epsilon didn't even have time to grab it with her telekinesis before it impacted her companion.

The blow sent Davian flying, his carrying bag being torn from him and its contents scattering all over the floor. He flew a short distance before crashing to the ground, where he lay unmoving.

With one threat down, the Alpha Series turned back to Epsilon. The two circled each other like metal sharks as they prepared for the next fight.

Epsilon decided that now was the time to take the initiative. Letting out her shriek, she leapt high into the air and angled herself towards the big daddy.

Her opponent raised its arms in defense, but that was exactly what she had expected. Upon impact, she used the massive limbs as a springboard to flip backwards. She had barely touched the ground when she shot forward once more. Reeling from blocking her first attack, the daddy was unprepared for her next strike.

Epsilon focused her power into a wall of telekinetic force, and slammed it directly into the beasts guard. The Alpha Series' limbs were forced backwards, giving her the opportunity she needed.

She darted forward into the newly made opening and clambered up onto its chest, latching on like a biting insect.

Both blood red gazes locked onto one another. Both knew what was about to happen, and the metal man let out a final scream of pure hatred before her needle shattered the glass of its visor, silencing it permanently.

Epsilon dropped to the ground, backing away as its massive body swayed in place. After several more moments, the behemoth tipped backwards and fell to the ground with a resounding crash.

A purr of satisfaction escaped her throat as the battle rush left her. Another crazed enemy had tried to take her life, and like all the others it had fallen before her.

Her moment of victory was dashed when she heard her sister's cries.

"Mister M! Wake up! You're scaring me!"

The girl was shaking Davian's unresponsive form. Despite her pleas, the splicer remained motionless on the ground.

Epsilon was surprised to find a slight pang of regret work its way through her gut. Why was she suddenly disappointed to see him go? He was just a splicer after all. It wasn't like his life was that important. There were probably a hundred others just like him.

Or maybe not… So far he seemed to be one of the few sane Adam addicts in the city. She hadn't known him for very long, but perhaps the fact that he was willing to cooperate had set him slightly above the others in her eyes.

Shaking her head, Epsilon made her way over to his body. Wren would need comfort right now since she seemed to be bonded to the strange creature. Maybe this was for the best. He probably would have been killed at some point in the future regardless, so it would be better to get it over with before the child became too attached.

Wrapping a comforting arm around the girl's tiny shoulders, she tried to stem the flow of tears. Wren clung to her desperately, not wanting to acknowledge the fact that her former protector was gone.

Epsilon held her gently until an unexpected sound grabbed her attention. A wet rasping cough signaled that, somehow, Davian was still alive.

"Mister M!" Wren exclaimed, rushing down to his side. "Are you ok!? I was worried; I thought you were sleeping for good!"

He didn't respond. The only sound he was able to make was another painful cough. With a blow like the one he took, Epsilon realized, he probably had internal damage. Even though he survived the hit, he was still in trouble.

Her gaze was drawn to movement as he frantically gestured towards something on the ground. It only took a second for her to spot the first aid kit that had been spilled out onto the floor, and she quickly drew it over to them with her telekinesis.

She held the item out to him and he quickly grabbed it from her open hand. Epsilon watched with mild curiosity as he opened the container and injected himself with the needle inside. There was no obvious visual change, but after a moment his breathing became less labored and his body relaxed.

Davian let out a shuddering sigh of relief, before blinking several times at his surroundings.

"That… really… hurt…" He choked out. "Is it dead?" At her nod, the tension that was left in his body dispersed. He sunk down back to the ground and lay there, simply catching his breath.

"Give me a minute." He said, covering his face with one hand. "I think my ribs just punctured my lungs in a dozen places."

Epsilon took this opportunity to gather up his fallen items. Thankfully it seemed that his body had taken most of the impact so while the supplies were scattered, they remained unharmed.

Though she would never admit it, she was somewhat relieved that he was still alive. He was the one who seemed to have an idea of where they were going, so losing him would have set her plans back to simply patrolling Adonis Resort. Besides, now she wouldn't need to deal with a tearful charge. Her lack of vocalization made comforting others difficult at the best of times.

Once all the items had been retrieved, she returned to where Davian was now sitting. He still held his chest with one hand, but he looked marginally less likely to suddenly fall over dead.

"Thanks for that." He said, taking the bag from her. "Let's get out of here before some other unpleasant obstacles show up."

Epsilon had to agree. She was feeling a bit fatigued from the battle, and didn't relish the idea of wading through a sea of splicers at the moment.

In addition to that, there was the matter of the voice. The room itself held few hiding spots, so the man who had unleashed the Alpha Series on them could only be in one place.

The train itself.

The man must have locked himself inside before they arrived. It would have served as a good defense for him up until that point, but now it only succeeded in trapping him inside with nowhere to go.

Both Davian and Epsilon positioned themselves in front of the doors to the vehicle, with Wren a short distance away.

"Come out!" Davian ordered. "We know you're in there, so just make this easier on yourself." After several moments of silence he lost his patience. "Amelia, get him out of there."

She growled eagerly behind her helmet. Intent on taking revenge on the foolish coward, she advanced.

The sudden crackle of the loudspeaker interrupted her. _"H-Hey! Wait a minute! I-I'll come out, just keep her away from me!"_

Her anticipation turned to annoyance when Davian held up a hand, signaling her to halt. Why was he stopping her? They were just going to kill him anyway; did it matter if he got outside first?

Both of them stood tense while the train door opened just a crack.

"I'm coming out with my hands up!" The voice called. "D-Don't hurt me ok? I'm unarmed!"

As the man exited the metal machine, several things became apparent. First, he wasn't a splicer. His skin was pale, but lacked any degradation from Adam use. Second, he wasn't carrying any visible weaponry on him. And third, he seemed to be on the verge of pissing himself.

Davian stepped forward until he was only a couple feet from their assailant. "You've got about five seconds to give me a reason to let you live." He said. "And it better be a good one."

"Hold on! Hold on! Don't do anything hasty now!" The man pleaded. "This is all just a big misunderstanding! I-I was just trying to protect myself, you know? Most of the people I run across tend to have it in for me."

"I can't imagine why." Davian remarked dryly.

"Listen, you want the train right? It's yours! I can even help you drive it. Wouldn't that be better than figuring out how to work the damn thing while ramming into a wall?"

Epsilon paced back and forth restlessly. Why was he interrogating this guy!? Step aside, let her kill him, and then they could all be on their way.

"And why should I trust you?" Davian questioned, raising an eyebrow. "You just tried to feed us to your pet monster. How do I know this isn't a trick?"

"What good would that do me now?" The man asked. "It's not like I can pull another big daddy out of my pocket. Besides, you've got your own pet monster don't ya? I'll bet she does a lot more for you than mine ever did for me."

Epsilon didn't understand what he was implying, or why he chuckled while saying it. Davian however, seemed to understand it entirely. He didn't seem happy about it either.

"Amelia, tear his limbs off."

"Whoa! Whoa! Wait, it was just a joke!" He begged, backing away quickly. "Jesus! Can't you people get a sense of humor?"

Much to her frustration, Davian held her back once more.

"Can you actually work that train?" He asked. "If we get in and you can't, I'll let her break you apart."

"I'll have you know that I'm an expert on running trains." The man assured. "I spent a lot of time around a ticket booth a while back. When you got nothin' other than training pamphlets to read, you tend to pick a few things up."

Davian fixed him to the spot with his gaze, before finally relenting.

"Fine." He said. "I'll admit that I don't have a clue about how to drive that thing, so if you can get us where we need to go I'll pretend you didn't just try to kill us."

Epsilons cry of outrage and disbelief went unheeded.

"My names Davian. This is Amelia, and the girl back there is Wren. We need to get to Paupers Drop. You think you can take us?"

The man seemed decidedly nervous about being so close to a big sister, but he gave a shaky smile none the less.

"The Drop? Sure I can take you there easy. I been there a couple times so I know the way. Trust me, you won't regret this."

Davian nodded, apparently satisfied with the answer.

"Now since I told you my name, how about you tell me yours?" He said. "I'm not in the habit of trusting people who I don't know."

Their conductor rubbed his hands together, shaking under Epsilon's glare. He licked his lips before answering.

"My name? Uh… yea sure. The names Poole."

"Stanley Poole."


	10. The art of making friends

**Just a heads up, Finals and work will be consuming most of my free time this week. I plan to get the next chapter up this weekend, but it might be delayed beyond that. Next week things should hopefully speed up a bit.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Bioshock or any of the characters associated with it**

* * *

Davian didn't have much experience with trains, but he assumed that it was safe to say this was the least comfortable train ride in Rapture's history.

Stanley Poole stood at the controls attempting to make small talk, which inevitably devolved into awkward silence when nobody responded. Wren refused to sit still, dashing around the small compartment to look at every new object in sight and point them out as loudly as possible. Amelia was stewing in a corner, giving of the feeling of a caged animal that _really_ wanted to hurt something. And to top it all off, the crushing weight of the ocean made itself inescapably known through the small glass windows. Truly this couldn't get any worse.

**Kill him.**

Speak of the devil.

**This man cannot be trusted. End his life now, before it's too late.**

_That time already?_ Davian thought idly.

He fished an Adam vial out of his bag, wondering what set the voice off this time. Maybe the Alpha Series had drained him more than he thought, or maybe the near-death experience was enough to push him over the edge.

**Listen to me damn you! **

_Watch your language._

Davian drew out a carefully measured amount of the red liquid in a syringe. Enough to keep him from going into withdrawal, but not so much that the rush would be a problem. He would probably have to refill again in a couple of days, but he would worry about that later.

**You will regret this.**

There were a lot of things that he regretted, but this probably wouldn't be one of them. Pushing through the barrier of skin, he injected the drug into his bloodstream. Like every time he had done it in the past, he was bombarded by the blinding relief which was quickly followed by the flood of power.

Davian held tight to the side of the train as the intense sensations threatened to sweep him away. Thanks to the limited amount he had injected the effects were not enough to derail his mind, but they did have the downside of leaving him unsatisfied. Until his next fix, he would be plagued by an even stronger craving for more.

When the intense feelings finally faded, Davian opened his eyes to see everyone else in the small room staring at him. It was then that he realized shooting up in a train car with people he barely knew probably wasn't the most socially acceptable pastime.

"Sorry." He muttered. "I had to take care of that."

Wren turned back to her examination of her new surroundings, with Stanley reluctantly following her example. Amelia on the other hand, continued to stare at him with an unnerving gaze. It was impossible to see her expression, but Davian still felt like a mouse being watched by a hungry snake.

As it happens, he didn't have to suffer her scrutiny for very long. With a lurch and the sound of metal grinding on metal, the train slowed to a stop. Stanley was the one to point out the obvious.

"Were here."

* * *

Compared to the inside of the train, the battered station they exited into was a paradise. Davian took a deep breath to dispel the stress of their cramped ride. The rotten air was far better than the stifled cabin fumes he had been forced to endure.

"Well, heh, looks like my parts done." Stanley said. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'll be on my way. I got a little hiding place to get back to before some other psycho moves into it."

"No."

The single word plunged the station into silence, as all eyes turned to Davian in disbelief.

"Uh… I don't think I heard you proper." Stanly replied, trying again. "I said I'm headed back now. You see? You go your way, I go mine."

Davian fixed him with a glare that would have given a raging bouncer pause.

"Do you remember when I said I'd forget about you trying to kill us?" He said. "I lied. You already put our lives at risk once, so there's no way I'm letting you leave with the only transportation out of here."

The color drained out of Stanley's face as he realized where this was going.

"In addition to that, I know you had access to a radio. That was how you were talking to us wasn't it? How can I be sure you didn't send some kind of message to any friends you might have on this side?"

Poole tried to stammer a response, but Davian didn't give him the opportunity.

"Here's how it's going to work. You're coming with us until I'm sure this isn't a trap and then maybe, _maybe_, I'll let you go. But if at any point you give me reason to think your intentions are less than helpful…"

He closed the distance between them, bringing his flame-wreathed hand up to Stanley's face.

"I'll make you wish Amelia had killed you."

For a miniature eternity, nobody moved a muscle. His eyes bored into Stanley's as the two of them stood locked together. Though the man searched desperately for some sort of reprieve, the glaring splicer offered him none.

Eventually, his shoulders slumped in defeat as he realized there was no way for him to escape alive.

"You bastard…" He whispered, his voice losing any sense of conviction.

"Call me what you want." Davian replied. "Just as long as you do what I say. Now move."

* * *

Epsilon was growing more perplexed by the hour. The more time she spent around Davian, the less she seemed to understand him. Earlier, she had thought that maybe he had maintained some semblance of humanity despite his condition. The train ride had proved her wrong.

It wasn't just the fact that he had threatened Stanley, in truth she wanted nothing more than to dispose of the man, rather it was when he injected himself that she caught a glimpse of his true colors. No ordinary person would have been so easily able to fill their blood with such a taint.

And his face…

Up until that point, she hadn't seen much sign of the sickness in him. But right then, gripped by the effects of Adam, his expression had shown nothing but hunger. He still felt the crippling pull of the drug, no matter how well he tried to hide it from her. From now on, she would need to be even warier of him.

"Amelia, care to join the rest of us up here?"

Epsilon started slightly at the sound of his voice. Looking up, she realized that she had fallen behind the group a fair bit. Davian stood observing her with an eyebrow raised, Wren at his side with all her usual cheer. She had likely already forgotten how dangerous he had looked earlier.

Stanley Poole stood nearby as the picture of misery. It was clear that he expected them to kill him when they were finished. It was almost enough for her to feel pity for him.

Almost.

Quickening her steps, Epsilon caught up and fell in beside Wren. The girl gave her a bright smile as she took her hand and skipped along. She subtly pulled the little sister closer to her side and away from the splicer.

If Davian noticed her actions, he didn't say anything. He was too busy keeping an eye on their unwilling companion. She doubted that he would be stupid enough to try running, but if he did he wouldn't get very far.

Suddenly, Epsilon felt a tug on her arm.

"E…? Can we stop soon? I'm getting sleepy." Wren said, rubbing her eyes slightly.

"It _is_ starting to get late." Davian commented. "You've been here before; know anyplace we can hold up in for the night?" He asked turning to Stanley.

The man just sighed. "Yea I know a place." He said. "There's a diner up ahead. Promise not to shoot me in the back and I can take you there."

Epsilon wished she could have commented on that, but settled for following his lead instead. If either he or Davian tried anything, she would be ready.

* * *

As it turned out, Stanley had been telling the truth.

No more than five minutes had passed before they came up to a battered diner. The place had been boarded up, but a swift kick from Amelia solved that problem quickly enough.

Soon enough the four of them were seated around a small fire made up of burning boards, while cooking the small amount of canned food that still looked edible in the place.

Davian stared silently at his can of beans while debating whether or not to risk a bite. Wren had already finished her meal, and was now nodding off while leaning on her older sibling.

Amelia, for her part had refused any part of the meal. He didn't know if this was out of repulsion for the slightly rotten food, or if it had something to do with her sudden hostility. She had been far from welcoming from the start, but her seemingly unprovoked tension surprised him.

He doubted it had anything to do with Stanley. The man may have been held captive, but he was still far from a threat. He hadn't fought them himself so Davian doubted he had the guts to try taking them on now.

The only other thing he could think of was the Adam injection. That couldn't have been it, could it? Surely she had known that he needed the stuff? It wasn't like he had tried to hide the fact that he was a splicer. That was just common sense after all, wasn't it?

Wearily, Davian lay back staring at the ceiling. Fatigue from the past few days had all caught up with him at once. He wasn't sure what had caused the tension, but this certainly wasn't the best time for it. They were deep in unknown territory, with no real concept of what was out there.

That reminded him…

"Stanley." He said, turning to the man. "I'll be taking first watch, followed by you, then Amelia. Keep in mind that I'm a very light sleeper. If you try anything, you'll regret it."

The threat didn't even seem to surprise him at this point. He just gave a dismissive grunt before huddling up a short distance from the fire. Soon, he had drifted off to sleep the same as Wren.

Davian couldn't see Amelia's face, but something told him that she was still awake.

"Do we have a problem?" He asked, facing her grim helmet. She gave no response.

_So were back to the silent treatment._ Davian thought to himself, resisting the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose in frustration.

"Look, if something is bothering you then just make it clear. I'd rather deal with it now, than have it be a problem later."

Still no response.

"Fine, be like that." He said, giving up. "You probably want to get some sleep while you can. You'll be on watch after Stanley."

Settling back into his nook in the room, Davian did his best to ignore the glowing red porthole that was watching him.

* * *

Rapture, as a whole, had fallen deeply into disrepair since its citizens fell from grace. It was not uncommon to find rubble, debris, and rotting corpses in any given room. Few were sane enough to notice the difference, and those who were didn't have the luxury of being able to care.

All of this made one particular room stand out dramatically.

Located deep in the bowels of the dead city was a single well managed office. Every inch of the place had been carefully cleaned and maintained with what some might describe as obsessive diligence. Not a single speck of dust, or shard of broken glass could be found. If a person were to judge the entire city by that single area, it would have appeared as a vision of dedicated vision of corporate enterprise.

Inside the unusual room were two figures who only added to the surreal feeling of oddity.

The smaller of the two figures paced in circles, his entire body shaking with nervous tension. He smoked a large cigar, his third for the day, while absentmindedly rubbing the mutilated flesh that had once held his left eye. His body had been wasted away by years of Adam addiction and malnutrition, leaving him a shell of his former self. The attire he wore might once have been considered impressive, but time had reduced then to ragged strips of cloth that clung to his skeletal frame.

Suffice it to say, Benjamin Hawthorn was not a happy man.

"Damn it, what are they doing out there!?" The snarl was directed to himself than anyone else. "Cain, what do your spies say?" He questioned, turning to the second figure.

Cain stood in stark contrast to his companion. Every inch of the man was held in careful control, with not a single thread of fabric daring to come loose for fear of incurring his attention. His hair was cut short, with a clean shaven face that displayed little emotion other than an experienced calm. With his hands clasped behind his ramrod-straight back, he was the spitting image of the man Hawthorn had never succeeded in becoming.

"They say the same thing as always." He explained, patiently. "Tenenbaum's refugees have been hiding in their little community. They only venture outside to gather supplies."

Benjamin gave a mirthless chuckle that devolved into ragged coughing as a lifetime of inhaling smoke took its toll. When his body stopped shaking, he took a deep drag on his cigar to ease his nerves.

"That's what they want me to think." He said, waving the cigar around for emphasis. "They think they can outsmart me. _ME!_ Tenenbaum thinks I won't notice if her merry band of hapless assholes sneaks out in the night. She thinks she can take the city from me! Well, that bitch can have Rapture when she pries it from my cold, dead, hands!"

Cain took a subtle step back to avoid the spittle that flew from Benjamin's mouth as he spoke. This wasn't the first time he had been forced to listen to one of these rants. In truth, he saw Tenenbaum as only a minor threat. Her group of 'survivors' as they called themselves, only numbered about several dozen strong. As of late, their few attempts to push back against the splicers had all been miserable failures.

Hawthorn on the other hand, was consumed by paranoia about her. He was aware that she had played a part in bringing down Andrew Ryan as well as Sophia Lamb, and he wouldn't let her do the same to him.

"Their after me Cain! They want my power, my position. They want to take everything from me! Have your spies look deeper into their plans, they can't get the upper hand! So help me, I will end their miserable lives if it's the last thing I do!"

"Of course sir." Cain responded smoothly. "I'll see to it at once. Whatever their hiding, my agents will find it."

Benjamin was so caught up in his own subterfuge that he didn't notice the look that passed over Cain's face as the man left. It only existed for the barest fraction of a second, hardly enough time to be sure it was there at all, but the careful observer might have described it as a look of contempt.

Hawthorn sat down heavily at his desk, a whooshing thump emitting from his chair as it held his weight. He took one last puff on the cigar before smothering it in a nearby ashtray.

"I'll get you Tenenbaum." He said softly to himself. "Just you wait. This is my city now, and no bleedin' heart broad is gonna take it from me."


	11. Every journey starts---

**Hey, I'm back with a new chapter. I did a bit of reading in chapter ten to review, and to put it simply I'm not happy with the way it turned out. It seemed clunky and rushed compared to the others. The major plot points are all there, but they don't seem to be implemented very well. Currently I'm debating re-writing it. What do you guys think? Good? Bad? Don't care? Is it even worth re-writing? Let me know.**

**With that out of the way, on to the important stuff.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Bioshock or any of the characters associated with it **

* * *

_The world was ending._

_This was the thought going through Epsilon's head as the entire city shook. _

_A short while earlier, Sophia Lamb had fallen back on her emergency plan. One last, desperate, attempt to kill Subject Delta. On her order high explosive charges had been placed all around the Persephone Penal Colony. When she gave the command the bombs would detonate, ending the alpha series once and for all. _

_Epsilon knew none of this. All she knew was that her existence was suddenly filled with terror as the explosions rocked the very foundations of Rapture. Glass cracked and metal groaned as the city writhed in its death throes. _

_All around her, splicers scurried to and fro. Some screamed, some wept, but all fled in panic. They ran but they had nowhere to go. The hungry ocean pushed against the feeble man-made barriers, longing to drag them all to a watery grave. _

_Epsilon fell to the floor, clutching the sides of her helmet in an attempt to block out the horrible sound of metal grinding against itself. She felt tears run freely down her cheeks as one, cruel, undeniable, fact made itself known._

_She was going to die._

_Any moment now, the city would collapse in on itself. Ten thousand tons of steel and concrete would come crashing down on her head. She would be crushed like an insect under the foot of a giant. _

_And there was nothing she could do. _

_Ever since she had awoken on the table, her life had been dictated by another. In her youth she had been a walking source of Adam under the control of those who had warped her mind. Later she became a weapon in the hands of the family, killing and sowing terror wherever she was directed. Now, in some heartless form of irony, her life would be ended by the actions of one she had lived for. _

_As she lay on the ground, cowering under the weight of the inevitable, Epsilon finally understood what it was to be abandoned. _

_Fate however, was not done with her yet. After several heart-stopping minutes, Rapture settled back into the rock it rested on. _

_The city refused to crumble despite the massive damage it had sustained._

_Slowly, ever so slowly, Epsilon raised her head to confirm that the moment of reprieve wasn't the eye of the hurricane. _

_She shakily got to her feet, splicers scattered about the room following her example. As one, the residents of Rapture held their breath in anticipation. When no cataclysm came to rip them from the world of the living, they were overcome by a tide of relief. Some slumped to the ground crying, or laughing, while others wandered around with lost expressions._

_All eyes soon turned to Epsilon as she made her way across the room. Normally she would have been uneasy being surrounded by so many splicers, but at this moment they might as well have not existed. She walked numbly towards the window embedded in the far wall. The glass was cracked, pouring water down on her head as she stared through it. _

_A single heart wrenching wail tore itself from her throat, echoing through the surrounding halls as she laid eyes on the sight before her. She begged, prayed, and pleaded for it not to be true, but no amount of anguish could extinguish the scene in front of her._

_As she looked through the battered glass, she could see that the Persephone Penal Colony was gone._

_Her mother was gone._

* * *

Breakfast was a very subdued affair. Epsilon hadn't bothered trying any of the local "cuisine". To be honest, she doubted that any of it would be considered edible by someone who was worried about their health.

Still, it helped keep them from using up all of their supplies.

Stanley Poole was muttering under his breath as he picked through his can of what she assumed was some kind of dried fruits. It was difficult to tell what it had started out as, but the label depicted an image of a faded red round thing that she thought might have been a tomato.

Wren was putting all the empty cans to good use, stacking them on top of each other in a small pyramid. Once they were stacked up to her liking, she would put another can over one of her hands. Then, making a drilling sound with her tongue, she would knock them all over, only to suffer a fit of giggles as they scattered all over the floor.

Davian, for his part, simply sat in silence. There were bags under his eyes that told the story of how well he had weathered the night. Epsilon was starting to wonder just how much he actually slept.

It came as a surprise to everyone when he was the one to speak up.

"Hey Stanley." He said, getting the man's attention. Stanley paused in his meager meal, jumping slightly at being addressed so suddenly.

"What?" He asked, tentatively. No doubt worried about anything Davian might have to say to him.

"I never asked, how exactly did you get that alpha series locked up like that?" Stanley relaxed slightly when he realized that it was a simple question, and not another threat on his life.

"Oh, that." He said, chuckling to himself. "Yea, that big oaf was a piece of work let me tell ya. He was raging around making a real mess of things, and… well… let's just say he brought back some _unpleasant_ memories." He shuddered as he spoke those words.

"Anyway, I got thinking to myself; 'how can I get this to work to my advantage?' The alphas are big and tough, but they're not all that smart. So I rigged up this big mechanism to drop those thick chains on him and tighten them up. All that I really needed at that point was a way to lure him in." Stanley was grinning now, recalling his clever plans to outwit the metal giant.

"I hooked up a pair of speakers in that room to trick him into going inside. The whole thing worked like a charm, he followed my voice right into the trap. And you want to know what the best part was? He KEPT falling for it. Each time I let him out and needed to get him under control again, I would just keep doing the same thing. Poor guy never learned a thing."

Epsilon frowned. Surely it wasn't that easy to trick an alpha series, was it? She found herself wondering just how a meeting between Poole and Delta would have gone down.

Davian pondered the explanation before setting down his canned food. Getting to his feet, he stretched his back which gave a painful sounding crack as the bones straightened out.

"Good to know." He said. "I'd ask where you got all that equipment from, but I think it's time to get going." With that, he slung his bag back over his shoulder and offered a hand to Wren. The girl accepted it eagerly as she put on her own carrying bag.

Epsilon couldn't help but let out a slight hiss at the sight. Stanley cringed at the sound, but Davian simply ignored it. Much to her annoyance, he seemed entirely unconcerned by her warning.

Before she could think of a suitable response however, she was distracted by an obnoxious buzzing sound. As she watched, a disturbingly large insect flew into the room headed directly for Davian.

It veered away from a full on impact at the very last second, but its presence caused him to flinch backwards. Having been caught unprepared, the splicer tripped over his own feet and came crashing down in a pile of cans with a shout.

Silence descended on the room as the insect flew up to the ceiling. All eyes were on Davian as he lay in shocked humiliation.

Finally, the spell was broken as Wren was caught up in shaking giggles that turned into an all-out laughing fit. Stanley soon followed, gasping for air as he struggled to get himself back under control. Even Epsilon felt several small, suppressed, laughs escape her chest.

"Very funny." Davian growled, sending them all accusing glances. "Laugh at my misfortune why don't you. You're all traitors."

"Come on mister M, it _was_ funny." Wren justified, between hiccups. "Your eyes went all big and stuff!"

Davian eventually got to his feet, shooting a murderous glare at the offending insect.

"It's going to be one of those days isn't it?" He asked more to himself than anyone else. "How about we just get a move on before something else shows up?"

It took several more minutes before they had all gathered themselves enough to get underway, but with some encouragement from Davian, and only a few minor death threats, they were moving.

Epsilon was still smiling, replaying the image of him falling in her head. She probably shouldn't have enjoyed it that much, but it was nice to see after all the earlier seriousness.

Still, one small thing nagged at the back of her subconscious. When she realized what it was, her smile slowly turned into a frown. One question made itself known in her mind.

Where had that insect come from?

* * *

Despite the way his morning had started, Davian was feeling a bit better than he had been yesterday. The four of them were making good progress, with Stanley's directions only getting them lost a couple of times.

_I think it's left from here. No, no, no, I'm sure it's definitely left from here! Eh… maybe it was right after all. Don't… don't look at me like that. _

Soon they would arrive in the apartments of Pauper's Drop. Soon they would have their new home.

Wren was happily swinging Davian's arm back and forth as they walked. Her good mood was infectious, and he found himself smiling at the girl. It was difficult to stay morose when she was around.

Looking over his shoulder, he stole a glance at Amelia. The big sister was a puzzle that he doubted he would ever figure out. One moment she was at his throat, and the next she would be laying back and observing. At the moment, she seemed to be thinking about something rather intently. Not once did she look up as she followed behind him.

Davian was just about to ask what the problem was when Wren suddenly stopped at his side. Senses immediately on alert for danger, he turned to her.

"Wren? What's wrong? Did you see something?" One look at her face told him exactly what she had noticed. The distant gaze. The slightly slackened expression. If she had pupils he bet they would have dilated at this point.

_Oh crap._

"Hey, what's gotten into the kid?" Stanley asked. Davian didn't have time to respond.

"Mister M!" She cried, looking up at him with a big smile. "There are angels nearby!"

This was the absolute last thing they needed right now. Harvesting was dangerous, especially when you had no idea what your surroundings looked like.

"Wren…" He said carefully, not wanting to provoke the dramatic reaction he knew was coming. "We're a little busy right now. Maybe we could come back for the angels later?"

It was useless to hope. He knew that, but he couldn't help trying. Her mental programming didn't leave room for logic or compromise.

"No!" She shouted, violently shaking her head. "The angels are here NOW! We HAVE to help them!"

"Wait a minute." Stanley interjected. "She wants to go sucking on a corpse _now_? How often does that happen?" Davian kept silent, locked in a battle of wills with the child next to him. He knew all too well what would happen if he tried to keep her from gathering.

He knelt down so as to look her in the eyes and convey just how serious this was. For several moments he simply held her gaze, willing her to understand.

"All right." He conceded at last. "We can go help your angels, but let's take it slow ok? Lead us to them, and we'll make sure it's safe."

Her expression instantly brightened up.

"Yea! Come on! Come on! It's this way!" Without a moment's hesitation, she began tugging him forward.

Conveniently enough, she led them in the same direction that he believed the Drop was. She was dragging him through what looked to be some sort of reception area when he ground to a halt, forcing her to stop as well. Wren let out a noise of protest, but Davian didn't ease up his iron grip on her arm.

Directly ahead of them, past a destroyed pile of debris, was a large array of dead splicers. The bodies hadn't simply been left where they fell either, their arrangement made it clear that this was set up intentionally.

It was a warning.

"Hold on." He said. "Let us check it out first." The girl was clearly unhappy about the delay, but she didn't put up a fight.

With a nod to Amelia, he began to move forward. The big sister worked her way up with him, her body poised to spring into action at a moment's notice.

Despite himself, Davian was glad that she was here. In addition to the obvious benefit of having a protector on his side, her presence was reassuring. It wasn't often that he had someone who was on his side.

Aside from the gruesome display, nothing jumped out. No signs of hostility greeted them as they approached the room. The two of them continued on slowly, taking one step at a time.

That changed as soon as they cleared the debris.

The moment Davian stepped past the fallen bits of concrete; his ears were assailed by the sound of an alarm. Pivoting on the spot, he spotted its source. A security camera had been installed in the far corner of the room. Someone had welded it in place facing the doorway to prevent it from moving and giving away its position.

His reaction was instantaneous. Without any conscious thought, a fireball had left his hand and streaked towards the camera. The explosion that followed sounded far too loud in the formerly quite room.

Both he and Amelia turned to face any new opponents, flame in hand and harvester at the ready. Surprisingly enough, nothing came rushing out to see what the commotion was.

The two of them stood motionless, not trusting the silence for a moment.

Apparently deciding that she had waited long enough, Wren strode out of her hiding place and began harvesting. She didn't seem to notice the disapproving glance that Davian directed at her for stepping out so soon.

Stanley followed soon after, seemingly put off by the cheer with which she approached her task.

"Something isn't right." Davian said, directing his comment towards Amelia. "That camera wasn't set up for no reason. Someone put it there." She nodded back at him. This was something the two of them agreed on.

For at least ten minutes, Wren went from body to body extracting Adam tainted blood from each. During this time Davian was shocked by the total lack of resistance. The only sound was her soft humming and the disturbingly familiar noise of the harvester piercing flesh.

In contrast to everything he had expected, she finished without incident. Standing up from the last body, Wren tipped the contents of the harvester into her mouth. She swallowed it all in just several swigs.

"All done!" She announced, wiping away a trickle of blood that had run down her cheek with a smile.

"Good." Davian said, thoroughly uneasy. "How far is it to the Drop, Stanley?"

"We're practically there." He said, picking at his sleeve while sweeping the room with his eyes. He didn't seem to trust this anymore than they had. "Just up ahead and around the bend."

Amelia picked up her younger sibling and placed the girl on her back. With an air of grim determination, their group moved forward again.

After progressing past a destroyed elevator, they came to a long hallway. Both sides were lined with rooms that looked as though they hadn't been used in ages. Very slowly, the tension began to ease out of Davian's shoulders.

Nothing had attacked them, and the place looked utterly abandoned. Maybe his nerves were overreacting. Who knows, maybe the camera was left over from the last occupants. It wasn't unreasonable to think they would leave it behind.

Letting out a breath, he turned back to his companions.

"I don't see anything. Do you think-"

His sentence was interrupted as the doors on either side of them burst open. Before any of them had time to react, they were surrounded by a dozen men and staring down the barrels of a variety of firearms.

"Hands in the air." Demanded one man, standing ahead of the rest.

"One wrong move and you're dead."


	12. ---With a single step

**I probably should have clarified that it was chapter 10 'The art of making friends' that I was debating rewriting. Sorry if that confused anybody. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Bioshock or any of the characters associated with it (I'm also trying to think of a clever way to include this without having to type it every time. Too bad I'm not all that clever.) **

* * *

Joseph had always enjoyed keeping an eye on the cameras. Sure, watching the screens wasn't the most exciting job available in the colony. In fact, it was one of the dullest, but there was just something peaceful about being around so much technology.

"Hey Joey! I got a question for you."

Peaceful until someone decided to interrupt, that was. With a bit of regret, he turned away from the camera monitors to face the person sitting next to him.

"Yea Archer?" He asked.

His older brother was currently swiveling from side to side in his chair, having much less patience for watching video feeds. His emergency radio was currently being tossed from hand to hand.

"Who do you think would win in a fight?" He questioned. "Subject Delta or Jack Ryan?"

Joseph stared back incredulously.

"Why are you asking me this?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. "What does that have to do with watching the cameras?"

Archer just rolled his eyes. "It has nothing to do with your precious cameras." He said. "But it might have something to do with my personal finances."

At the questioning look Joseph gave him, he continued.

"Let's say _theoretically_ I may have made a bet with someone over who would win in a fight to the death. And _theoretically_ I said that you could be the one to decide the winner of the bet."

"Why do you have to do this to me?" Joseph groaned. "Can't you just play cards like a normal person, and not get me involved in your bets?"

"Come ooooooon!" Archer goaded, shoving his shoulder. "Don't be a wuss, just say who you think would win."

Seeing no alternative, Joey closed his eyes and raised a hand to his forehead. He would have loved to not think about either of Rapture's giants for the rest of his life, but it seemed lady luck wasn't with him.

"I don't know… Jack I guess?"

"Wha- _JACK!?_" Archer spluttered. "But- but he's just a normal person! Delta is an eight foot tall metal killing machine! He took on Lamb's super-sisters, surely he could bring down one guy, right!?"

Joseph sighed, not really wanting to turn this into an argument.

"Yea, but Jack killed off Fontaine." He explained. "Did you see the security recordings? That guy was a monster. I don't think Delta would have been able to stand against him the way Jack did. He was something else."

Archer pointed an accusing finger at his little brother; undoubtedly about to start a tirade about how Delta would have wiped the floor with Fontaine, when something caught his eye.

"What's that?" He asked suddenly, pointing at an image on one of the cameras.

Joseph turned to the screen, frowning as he tried to see the commotion. As he watched, a figure edged out past a pile of debris. It looked to be a young man, either in his late teens or early twenties, but he only held their attention for a moment. The person beside him cut a far more impressive figure. Covered from head to toe in metal, she was an image straight out of some deranged nightmare.

It was a big sister.

The two of them slowly moved into full view of the camera, the strangeness of their image leaving Joseph and Archer in stunned silence. Suddenly, the man got too far out in the open, causing the built in alarm system to go off. Instantly, he whipped around and hurled a blast of flame directly at the camera.

The mash up of metal and wiring never stood a chance.

For a second, both of them simply stared at the static filling the screen that had been showing the two figures moments ago.

"Joey…" Archer began, his voice taking on a far more serious tone than it had previously. "Where was that camera?"

Joseph gripped the sides of his chair, fighting down panic.

"T-t-that camera… uh… I-I think it was the one out front, by the entrance." His voice shook badly, unable to stay calm with such an imminent threat so close by.

Archer was already up and moving, halfway across the room with a radio up to his ear.

"Tom? It's Archer. I need you to get your security team out front, NOW! We have a problem." A muffled voice followed his demand. "There's a splicer out front, he has- no wait a- WAIT a minute! I'm not bothering you for one measly splicer! Listen, he has a big sister with him!"

He stopped momentarily at the door to pick up his crossbow which had been left there earlier. The pause gave his younger brother time to catch up, watching him with worried eyes.

"Yes. I'm serious. I don't know how, all I know is he just took out the camera in the main entrance. If this is one of Benjamin's thugs…"

He didn't need to finish that sentence. They all knew how big a threat the splicers under Benjamin's command were. If they had a big sister working for them now, life was going to become a lot more dangerous.

"Call the doc up if you can reach her, we'll meet you downstairs."

With that, he hooked the radio back onto his belt and hoisted the crossbow into a ready position. He spared a shaky smile at Joseph.

"You ready?"

Ready? _Ready!?_ No! He wasn't ready! He couldn't be more _not _ready if he tried! They were under attack, by a big sister of all things! How could anyone possibly be ready for that!?

"Yea…" He replied, trying in vain to hide just how frayed his nerves were. The pistol at his side seemed woefully inadequate all of a sudden.

Together, they made their way down to the ground floor (a term to be used loosely in Rapture) where ten armed men were waiting for them. Despite his initial misgivings, Tomas had done as they asked and seemed to be conversing with the good doctor over the radio.

"Yes, I damn well know about their 'condition' but right now- _No!_ I am not waiting around for that thing to make the first move! Either you tell me how to kill it, or we go out there guns blazing. We can't afford to let it get anywhere near the settlement."

The radio remained silent for several seconds before the voice on the other end seemed to relent. Tomas listened carefully as it spoke. When it finished, he heaved a sigh.

"I can't promise anything doc, my only concern is for the well-being of the people inside. If it wants to fight, I'm putting it down understand? Good. We'll be back with news in a bit."

Stowing the radio, he turned to the assorted militia force.

"Listen up! We got a big sister and a splicer knocking on our front door. Now I don't know how much you boys have heard about those screaming freaks, but rest assured that they can die just like everything else. If it comes to a fight, aim for the head, heart, or stomach. Anywhere else might not be enough to finish it off."

One of the men in back raised a trembling hand.

"Uh, sir?" He started. "What do you mean _if _it comes to a fight? Aren't they headed right for us?"

Tomas didn't respond immediately, instead taking this as a chance to check his shotgun. Eventually he turned back to the man.

"Doctor's orders." He said. "She wants to know what's going on before we start shooting the place up. As it so happens, the sisters don't typically get all buddy-buddy with splicers."

Joseph felt himself pale at the news. If this was going where he thought it was going…

"So what's the plan?" The man asked, obviously uncomfortable as well. "Are we just supposed to sit back and watch?"

"No." Tomas replied. "We're going to be setting up an ambush. When our guests walk by, we spring the trap. Then they get to decide whether they want to play nice…" He hoisted up his shotgun to emphasize his point. "Or opt for a bit of roughhousing."

Joey felt his knees start to give way beneath him. If it wasn't for Archer's quickly-offered arm, he probably would have fallen to the ground.

This couldn't be happening.

Go out. Against a protector. And meet it in close quarters? Did _nobody_ else see the problem with this plan!?

"Easy." Archer cautioned him, trying to prevent an all-out panic attack. "It'll be fine. Tom knows what he's doing, don't you Tom?"

The large man just grunted in return, earning a grumble from several of the group members.

"Just stay behind me Joey. We can get through this. Just think of it like that time we had to bring down the pissed off rumbler."

Joseph was tempted to point out that the fight with the rumbler had included entrenched positions, auto-turrets, and over two dozen security bots. It probably wouldn't have been so messy if one of them had the telekinesis plasmid, but nobody wanted to risk the Adam side-effects.

"Form up and move out!" Came the order from Tomas. Some followed readily, others reluctantly, but they all fell in behind him.

Joseph tried to take his mind off the fear that threatened to bring him down by focusing on his brother. Even at a time like this, Archer seemed at ease. His crossbow was slung lazily over one shoulder while he strolled behind the train of humanity. Seeing Joey watching, he gave a smirk and a thumb's up.

Joseph didn't know if he should be impressed by his confidence, or highly disturbed.

He didn't have long to ponder the question. When their group approached the main entrance, a hand signal from Tomas sent them scattering into the side rooms. It was a maneuver they had practiced well, and it served them admirably in the past.

Hopefully it would continue that success.

The two siblings hid in a room near the back. Archer's crossbow was deadly accurate at any range, but from this distance he would have plenty of time to line up the shot. Joseph heard the radio crackle at his brother's side.

"Everyone quiet, wait for my signal." Tom ordered, his voice being received by almost all members of the squad. Those who weren't fortunate enough to have a radio would just have to wait for their companions to initiate first.

Now it was a waiting game. Almost as bad as the actual engagement. Joseph tried his best to keep his breathing steady, ignoring the scores of horrific scenes that played out in his head. He couldn't afford to hesitate now.

That was when he heard it. Softly at first, but soon growing louder.

Footsteps. The pattering of their enemies drawing closer.

He strained his ear against the closed doorframe to try catching wind of just what they were up against. Much to his dismay, it sounded like more than just two pairs of legs. There were at least three people, possibly more, heading down the hallway.

Suddenly, the sound stopped. Nothing but silence greeted him now.

What had happened? Were the intruders onto them? Had something given them away? What was he supposed to do if they knew?

A voice caught his attention. Not the voice of his brother, or someone from their group. It was coming from the hallway.

"I don't see anything. Do you think-"

"_Now!"_ Tomas's command shot through the radio.

There was no time to think after that. The moment the signal was given; Archer was kicking the door open and dashing into the hallway. Joseph followed behind him quickly, bringing his pistol up in a white-knuckled grip. It wasn't until they were standing face to face with the enemy that the wave of fear hit him full on.

It was one thing to see a protector from far away. Getting up close and personal however… It took every ounce of willpower he had to keep the gun in his hands steady.

There were indeed three people in the group. For whatever reason, the splicer seemed to be the one in charge with the sister directly behind him. Carrying up the back was a man who bore no signs of Adam addiction. He was currently trying his best to hide behind the big sister.

Before either group could make a move, Tomas stepped forward.

"Hands in the air." He demanded, leveling his shotgun at the leading splicer. "One wrong move and you're dead."

It took a moment for his words to sink in, but when they did Lamb's super-soldier was the first to react. Much to Joseph's mounting horror, she crouched into a battle stance and prepared to leap forward. Before things hit the fan however, the splicer of all people stepped in.

"Amelia, don't!" He half-pleaded half-ordered, never taking his eyes off Tom's shotgun. "There's very little room to move around in here, and some of us can't afford to get shot!"

It looked like she was going to attack anyway, leaving her companions to their fate. But after several tense seconds, her body relaxed into a more defensive position. Joseph couldn't help but stare at the massive needle attached to her arm, and wonder how many people had been killed by it.

"Smart boy." Tomas said, backing down slightly but keeping his weapon at the ready. "Would you care to explain what such a…" He paused, looking for the right word. "_Unique_ group like your own is doing in our territory?"

Before the splicer could respond, the man in the back ran forward.

"You guys gotta help me!" He said. "They've been keeping me hostage! Please, do something!"

It was hard to tell which group was more surprised by this outburst.

"You son of a- _you're selling us out_!?" The splicer yelled, turning to him in a rage.

"You're the one who kidnapped me! I'm not taking a bullet for you buddy!"

"You tried to kill us!"

"You busted into my home, I was just defending myself!"

"Busted in!? You had a pair of turrets waiting to greet us at the door! 'Busting in' was the only way to get through!"

"You-"

"_Shut the hell up!"_ Tomas shouted, pointing the shotgun at both of the bickering men. "You have till the count of five to tell me just what in god's name is going on or you'll be eating lead as your last meal!"

Both of them immediately quieted down, suddenly seeming to remember the danger they were in.

"One…"

"Hold on, hold on!" The splicer said, not-so-subtly giving the other man a shove as he stepped forward. "We're not here to cause trouble. I was under the impression that the Drop was vacant property. The four of us have been looking for a place to move into. Well, not Stanley so much, he's kind of just along until I'm sure he's not going to shoot us when our backs are turned." He said, gesturing to his companion.

"Four?" Tomas asked, confused. "What do you mean four?"

He didn't need to explain. As soon as she was mentioned, the fourth member of their group poked her head curiously over her older sister's shoulder.

The entire area went silent as the militia men stared in total shock. Fidgeting under the sudden attention, the girl turned to the splicer.

"Mister M?" She asked. "Who are those people?"

Joseph couldn't believe what he was seeing. It was simply impossible, and yet his eyes told him the truth. Carried on the back of one of Rapture's gatekeepers was a relic of ages past.

A little sister.

There hadn't been a gatherer sighting in ages. Ever since Delta took the majority of the girl's with him, the few left behind had become prime targets for the surviving splicers. After a while, they simply seemed to disappear.

"Is that what I think it is?" Tomas asked, a hint of awe in his voice.

"Yes _she _is." The splicer responded, his eyes narrowing. "_Her_ name is Wren, and she's a little sister who I happen to be quite fond of. That means keep your distance, and quit eying her like that or else."

Everyone was still too entranced by the girl's unexpected appearance to notice the absurdity of him threatening them.

"My name is Davian." The splicer said. "That's Amelia, and that's Stanley. Would you mind telling me who you lot are? I'm not too fond of having strangers point guns at me." He paused, before adding on another thought. "I suppose I'm not fond of anyone pointing guns at me, but it's slightly less nerve-wracking when they're not strangers."

Silence returned as all eyes remained fixed on the girl. Eventually, Tomas brought his attention back to Davian's question.

"The name's Tomas and I'll tell you right now, the Drop is not vacant. Normally I'd tell you to turn around and go straight back the way you came, but you put me in a slightly awkward position."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Davian asked suspiciously.

"You said you were looking for a place to stay didn't you?" Tom said, dodging the question. "We might just be able to work something out. You see one of our people is very interested in the gatherers, and up until now she assumed they were all dead or gone."

He stepped back somewhat, lowering his gun into an at ease position. It could still be brought up at a moment's notice, but it was no longer threatening to end anyone's life.

"Come with me. Tenenbaum is going to have a lot of questions for you."


	13. Always a catch

**Happy New Year's Eve everyone (Or almost, i'm off by one day). The next time you see this story updated, it will be 2014. **

**I had originally intended to write Tenenbaum with an accent, but after several failed attempts I felt that it was taking more away from the story than it added (which is fancy talk for; I got frustrated and took the lazy way out). **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Bioshock or any of the characters associated with it **

* * *

Epsilon was having a very hard time keeping herself under control. She was surrounded. She hated being surrounded. To make things worse, she couldn't lash out at her opponents.

They weren't splicers, but right now that hardly mattered. They carried guns. They threatened to use them. They were the enemy.

After the group of men had ambushed them, She, Davian, and Stanley had all been forced to follow them back into the heart of their lair. The procession had all the cheer of a mass funeral. Both sides eyed each other warily, expecting to be betrayed at any moment.

For Epsilon, this went against everything she had been taught. Her instincts raged inside her head, desperate to tear into them. They were a threat, both to her and her charge, but she couldn't strike them down.

All because of him.

For what felt like the thousandth time, she began debating if it was worth keeping Davian alive or not. This time however, she didn't have to spend much time thinking. During their forced march he had positioned himself at her back, sending a glare at anyone that tried to get a closer look at Wren.

He was protecting her little sister. Here, surrounded by strangers and armed men, that was enough reason for him to be around.

Epsilon felt herself being watched. With a growl, she turned to face whoever dared try her patience. The boy who had been watching her was hardly more than a child. A pistol was held in his unsteady hands, and unlike the rest of their captors he looked truly terrified.

Seeing her turn to face him, the boy blanched. He quickly looked away and darted to the front of their group, putting as much distance between himself and Epsilon as possible. She smirked slightly behind her helmet. It was always nice to get a reaction like that.

It wasn't long before they ran into more people. The spectacle of their armed escort had drawn a small crowd of people out to watch. The onlookers only added to Epsilon's discomfort, her harvester arm twitching in the hopes of battle.

Still, very few of them seemed to pay much attention to her. Other than a couple fear filled glances, they seemed far more interested in the girl on her back. Wren had slunk back into her cage in an attempt to hide from the mass of humanity.

Epsilon focused on her breathing. The steady rhythm of drawing in air and pushing it back out again provided a distraction from the tension that filled her body. She couldn't afford to snap at a time like this.

"That's far enough."

Her attention was brought back to their current situation as the head soldier, Tomas, made the announcement. The group had stopped just outside a large bulkhead door that had a security camera installed in the corner. As she watched, the man lifted a radio to his ear.

"We're here doc. Yea, the sister's here too and you're not going to believe what it's got with it. You sure about that? It seems a bit risky. Fine. Whatever you say, but I'm keeping my gun ready. Shout if you need anything."

As he put the radio away, the door in front of them opened up.

"All right." Tomas said, gesturing to Epsilon and Davian. "You two, head inside. Keep your weapons down, your eyes forward, and your hands to yourself. It only takes a second for the security bots to activate if they detect trouble, so it will be better for everyone involved if you behave."

"What about me?" Stanly asked, shifting from foot to foot nervously.

"We've got someone else who wants to talk to you." Tomas replied with a knowing smile. "One Grace Holloway hailed me on the way over here. She was rather… _insistent_ that she get to talk to you before the doctor. Something to do with a child that went missing years ago."

The look of total dread that took shape on his face made Epsilon somewhat sad that she wouldn't get to see the meeting. She and Davian entered as Stanley was 'escorted' away by two armed guards.

The door closed behind them, but she hardly noticed. As soon as Epsilon had stepped inside, all of her attention was focused on the room. To put it mildly, it looked as though an enraged big daddy had decided to tear the place up.

Folders and papers were scattered over every available surface, as well as much of the floor. The walls were adorned with maps that had sections crossed off with red markings. Notes had been scrawled all over the place, some on papers and others on the walls themselves. And yet, despite all the chaos, the woman in the middle of it all looked as calm and collected as mother once had.

"So, you are the ones who come venturing into our home." She said, with a small smile. "I must ask for your forgiveness. I have not had guests in a long time, and my office is quite a mess."

"I noticed…" Davian commented, seemingly perturbed by the woman's mannerism.

She just shook her head, the corners of her mouth turning up a bit more. "Allow me to introduce myself, I am Doctor Brigid Tenenbaum. I work as an advisor and guide to the people of this colony. May I ask who I have the pleasure of addressing?"

Davian hesitated. He spared a questioning glance at Epsilon, silently asking her opinion on how to proceed. After a short pause, she just nodded. It hardly mattered if this Tenenbaum knew who they were. Worst case scenario, she would just kill her.

"My name is Davian." He said. "My friend here is Amelia. That's probably not her real name, but it's what I call her. And this…" He reached into the cage on her back, drawing out the little sister inside, and setting her on the ground. "Is Wren." The moment she touched the ground, the little girl proceeded to hide behind Davian's leg, out of sight of Tenenbaum.

The doctor froze. The expression on her face was far from what Epsilon had expected. It was a strange mixture of shock, sorrow, and pity. The display put her on edge. Hunger and want were something she was prepared for but this… she didn't know what to expect from this.

Tenenbaum's hand began to rise as if she wanted to reach out and touch the girl, but a warning growl from Epsilon stopped her in her tracks.

After several more moments, she seemed to get a hold of herself.

"I see." She said at last, her voice shaking just a bit. "I must admit, I didn't know there were any gatherers left in this city. Might I ask how she came to travel with you?"

"I found her." Davian replied, defensively. She waited for him to continue, but he remained silent.

"I see…" She said again. The doctor took a seat at her desk, before gesturing to two chairs that were free from stacks of paper.

"Please, make yourselves comfortable. There are several things I wish to discuss with you."

They accepted, each sitting in their respective chairs. Wren elected to sit in Davian's lap, pulling one of his arms around her as a barrier against the new woman. She still hadn't said a word since they had been ambushed, and Epsilon was starting to grow concerned.

"Now then." Tenenbaum began. "Tomas has informed me that you are looking for a place to stay, yes? Is that why you came to Pauper's Drop in the first place?"

Davian nodded. "Our old home was running out of supplies. The only choice we had was to leave."

She pursed her lips, considering his answer for a moment. Epsilon was no expert on reading the intentions of others, but she was struck by the feeling that the doctor was asking far more then she let on.

"Was the Drop your first choice?" She asked. "Was there any specific reason why you chose to come here instead of somewhere else?"

"It was the only option as far as I could see." Davian explained. "It had housing, several possible supply areas, and didn't seem to be crawling with splicers. I only had a few maps back home, so I wasn't all that keen on going somewhere I didn't recognize."

"Hmmm. How were you so sure that there wouldn't be any splicers here?" She asked, regarding him with a fixed gaze.

"Because of Delta." He replied. Epsilon cringed at the sound of the name. "He stormed through here a few years ago. From what I hear, he killed off most of the population."

Tenenbaum seemed to accept the answer, at least for right now.

"I must say, this is a most unusual situation." She said. "It is not often that we meet splicers who are interested in anything other than Adam, and you are the first I have seen that travels with a gatherer and a protector."

She leaned back in her seat. "Perhaps we can come to an agreement. This colony is in place to protect those who still retain their minds. If you come with honest intentions, and earn your keep, then we may be able to find room for you."

"What do you mean 'earn our keep' exactly?" Davian asked, his voice betraying a note of hesitance.

"Not all those in the surrounding area respect our goals." She said. "Though we would prefer to get along peacefully, there are some who would see us dead. If the company you keep is any example, then I am guessing you know how to fight yes?"

Davian nodded.

"If you wish to stay then I would ask that you help to defend your new home."

He looked at Epsilon, silently asking her what she thought about the arrangement. She gave a hum of acceptance. At this point, surrounded by so many people, she would relish the chance to hurt something. Be it a splicer or a human.

"I guess we have a deal." Davian said with a sigh. "Did you have any particular target in mind, or are we just supposed to go out and start killing things?"

Tenenbaum gave him a weary smile. "There's a small group of splicers who have set up nearby." She said. "Tomas, Joseph, and Archer will be accompanying you, and they'll explain the situation in more detail after your examination."

"Examination? What examination?" He demanded, suddenly on the defensive.

"Just a simple physical evaluation." The doctor said. "It's nothing too serious, but we need to see just how much you have been affected by your experiences with Adam. We need to know the risk of you having a breakdown inside the colony."

The expression on his face showed that he wanted to protest the exam, but he clenched his jaw instead. Epsilon wondered for a moment just why he looked so uneasy; it wasn't as if he had any major physical deformities. Then again, maybe he did and was just hiding them somewhere.

Rising from his chair, he gently set Wren back down on the floor.

"Let's get this over with."

* * *

Tomas stepped into Tenenbaum's office. Their guests had left a short time ago, being escorted to the medical station by Archer and Joseph. He would follow soon, but he needed a few questions answered first.

"Hey doc." He greeted, nodding to the woman. "How did it go?"

She didn't look at him at first; instead gazing out the way they had come with an expression of mourning.

"I don't believe they are working for Hawthorn." She said at last. "The boy seems genuine in his desire to find a new home, and the protector…" She paused, considering how to phrase her next sentence. "I wouldn't say she is loyal to him, but she seems to accept some of his judgment."

"And what about the girl?" He asked. "Will he hand her over? Or will we need to take her by force?"

He knew how much the doctor cared for the gatherers, and her expression showed just how much she disliked the situation. Still, there was no avoiding the question and he would be damned if he let the poor thing stay in the hands of a splicer for any amount of time longer than necessary.

"I would prefer if he could be convinced to fix this issue himself." She said. "I don't want more violence to stain these walls."

"Oh come on, don't act like he's taken her in out of the goodness of his heart!" Tomas said, annoyed at her lack of conviction. "He's a splicer. We both know the only reason he would keep her around."

Tenenbaum fixed him with a hard gaze. Try as he might, he could never win a battle of wills with the seemingly-frail woman.

"I will say again…" She said. "I do not want more violence. There has been far too much of that as is. If we can convince him to do the right thing, things will be better for everyone. If not…" She turned back to watch the way they had gone.

"We will just have to see."

* * *

The person giving Davian his physical was perhaps the single oldest man he had ever met in his life. Doctor Gregory looked as though a pat on the back would be enough to knock him to the ground, and for the past twenty minutes he had subjected Davian to all manner of indignities.

From prodding him with cold metal rods, to testing his reflexes, to seeing just how far he could bend in a given direction, the man was undoubtedly a practiced sadist. At the very least Amelia and Wren had been told to wait outside, so Davian was spared the shame of having them watch.

"Are we almost done here?' He asked, desperate to escape the clinical prison.

Gregory chuckled at his reaction. "Almost." He said. "There's just a bit more I need to see. Please have a seat on the table. I have to check your eyes next."

Davian grudgingly did as he was told. He was tense, but it wasn't the demeaning tests that were working on his nerves. He wanted to get out of the doctor's office as quickly as possible. The longer he stayed the more chance the old man had of finding something he didn't want to explain.

_Calm down._ He thought. _Just act normal and everything will work out. _

The next test consisted of Gregory shining a small light in his eyes. It was just bright enough to be annoying, but not enough to cause pain. After watching his reactions, the doctor wrote down some notes on a piece of paper. He muttered something about 'minimal-pupil-dilation' as well as a few other words Davian didn't know.

_There's no way this is an actual test. He's just messing with me at this point isn't he?_

"Almost finished." He said. "I'll just have to ask you to remove your shirt so that I can listen to your lungs."

Davian froze. He felt his pulse spike while he struggled to give no outward signs of his discomfort.

"No."

"Now Davian, be reasonable. I'm not asking you to-"

"I said I'm not taking my shirt off!" He insisted, cutting the doctor off mid-sentence.

Gregory gave a heavy sigh. "There is no reason to be difficult." He assured. "I know that the effects of Adam can be grotesque, but there is nothing to be ashamed of. We can either do this the easy way, or I can have the guards take your shirt off for you."

Adam mutation. If only it were that simple. He had no other choice did he? Very slowly, Davian began to remove his shirt.

"You see, not so hard was it?" Gregory asked with a reassuring smile. "I don't see any issues with you."

_Not with the front._ Davian thought bitterly, knowing it was only a matter of time. He was half tempted to just run, but that would just end with getting caught by a guard and him finding out anyway.

The doctor listened through a stethoscope as he took several deep breaths, changing the position of the device after each one. The cold metal only served to heighten his discomfort.

"All right." Gregory said, walking around him. "Now I just need to check-"

His voice stopped dead as he saw Davian's back. For several drawn-out seconds, silence held the room in an iron fist. The sound that broke the shell was that of the stethoscope being dropped to the floor.

"Dear God…" Came the shocked voice of the doctor. "What… what is…?"

"Shrapnel scars." Davian answered, turning to face the man.

"Shrapnel?" He asked, aghast. "That is not shrapnel! I have seen-"

"I said _Shrapnel. Scars._" Davian insisted, interrupting him again. His eyes glared at the old man, daring him to dispute the nature of his markings. Gregory stood with his mouth half open, a hint of fear entering his expression.

Not waiting for a response, Davian quickly put his shirt back on and got up off the table. He exited the room leaving behind one very disturbed doctor.

**You must have known someone would see it sooner or later.**

_Piss off._

* * *

"Tell. Me. Again!" Benjamin Hawthorn demanded, his features twisting as he shouted. His one good eye practically shook in his head.

Cain sighed silently. This was the third time he had explained his findings, and he was not one who enjoyed repeating himself.

"My agent spotted the group moving towards Pauper's Drop." He repeated. "It was an odd assortment. One man who looked to be getting on in the years, a younger fellow who bore the marks of Adam addiction, a little sister, and a mark 2 protector."

"His name, damn it! What was the boy's name!?"

Years of self-control were the only thing keeping Cain's expression carefully neutral.

"The gatherer referred to him as 'mister M' but my agent followed him, and he later introduced himself to Tenenbaum's group as Davian. If I could beg your attention for a moment, I think the big sister and her younger counterpart are a far bigger issue than a lone splicer."

Hawthorn wasn't listening anymore. Much to Cain's frustration, he had begun pacing while drawing in a rapid lung-full of his cigar.

"He's back…" He spoke, his voice thick with disbelief. His hand unconsciously went to the hole that had once held his lost eye.

"That son of a bitch… he's still alive…"


	14. House crashing party

**Disclaimer: I don't own Bioshock or any of the characters associated with it**

* * *

If there was one thing that Tenenbaum had learned in the last couple years, it was that managing a group of over fifty people left very little time to think about anything else. It was just a pity that her fan had broken, the room got very stuffy without it circulating the air.

_Medical supplies. _She thought. _We're going to need more soon. Maybe search Fontaine Futuristics? No, no, too far away. Too big of a risk._

A sudden blip from her security console alerted her to the fact that someone was at the door.

"Hello?" She greeted, speaking into a nearby radio. There was a bit of static before Doctor Gregory's voice came through.

"Hello? Tenenbaum? I believe I need to speak with you. Is now a good time?" There was a bit of unsteadiness in his voice, something that put her on edge. She doubted this could be about anything other than the splicer.

"Now is fine." She said. "I'll let you in, just a moment." With a flick of a switch, the doors to her office began to open. Tenenbaum found herself wondering just what was wrong with their new guest. He had seemed stable enough at first glance, but she knew all too well how deceiving first impressions could be.

The man entered her office slowly, an expression of concern written out plainly on his face. To her relief, he looked unharmed so the chances of Davian having snapped suddenly were low.

"Is there a problem Gregory?" She asked, deciding it would be better to get straight to the point. "You look worried."

"I'm not entirely sure I would call it a _problem_, per se." He said, rubbing the back of his neck. "Tell me, do you happen to know where the young man you sent to my office is right now?"

He lost him? "I sent him and his companion with Tomas to clear out a group of splicers who have become problematic." She said. "Why? Has something happened?"

"Not exactly." Gregory replied. He paused for several moments to think of how best to explain the situation. "He left my care in a hurry after I got a look at some… unusual scarring on his back."

"Unusual how?" Tenenbaum questioned. "It hardly seems surprising that an Adam user would have scar tissue."

"Unless the Adam he took was specially designed to draw pictures, I doubt it had anything to do with this." That got her attention.

"Pictures?" She asked. "Were these scars self-inflicted?"

"No, I highly doubt that." He assured. "The image was positioned between his shoulder blades. It would be nearly impossible for him to have done that with his own hands."

"Torture then?" She knew that there were plenty of psychopaths in Rapture that delighted in causing pain. Gregory however, shook his head.

"I thought it might be at first." He explained, closing his eyes briefly. "But the cuts are far too clean. There was no tearing that would have resulted from a struggle. To put it plainly, he was laying perfectly still while someone carved this into his back_._"

Tenenbaum took several seconds to let those words sink in.

"Gregory…" She began, her voice taking on a carefully neutral tone. "What was the image?"

The medical practitioner hesitated, remembering the way Davian had reacted. "That's the second thing." He said. "It was a rendition of a tree. A _tree_. That isn't something he could have ever seen. He's far too young to have been to the surface."

"There's only one place in Rapture where he would have found such a thing." She said, finishing for him. "Arcadia."

Arcadia Gardens had been the lungs of Rapture ever since the city had first been constructed. The plant life found there served to keep a steady supply of oxygen flowing to the far corners of each dark room an alley. It was known for its botanical beauty, flowing artificial rivers, and of course for the fact that it had been home to a cult of crazed, blood-drinking, lunatics.

"I believe that we will need to have another talk with Davian when they return." Tenenbaum said, a frown on her face.

Epsilon was feeling good. In a nice change of pace, she was out hunting. Sure she had to go with a group of near-strangers, and the splicer, but right now she didn't care. All that mattered right now was that _she _was the one headed for a fight, instead of having one forced on her.

"Are we there yet?" Wren asked from her back. It was the same question she had asked at least ten times already, seemingly spacing them out just enough for those answering her to forget about it until she decided to ask again. Irritating though it may be, it was better than her earlier silence.

Tomas shot her a slightly annoyed glance. "Not yet." He said. "Keep quiet; we don't want anyone to hear us before the fighting starts."

Epsilon had already decided she didn't like the man. He was far too assertive for his own good, giving orders that he expected her to follow exactly. And then there was the fact that he kept referring to her as 'it', she certainly didn't appreciate that. If he kept pushing then he might just have an accident before the day was over. That or she may just kill him outright. Sometimes tact was overrated.

The sound of whispering drew her attention to the two other non-spliced members of their group. The two brothers had introduced themselves as Archer and Joseph, though she couldn't quite remember which was which. They both looked pretty much the same to her.

The older one was leaning over and whispering something in his sibling's ear, while gesturing at Epsilon. She couldn't make out the words, but they must have been serious judging by the boy's reaction. He nearly jumped, an expression that was equal parts fear and disbelief fixing on his face before he stormed to the front of their group.

"What?" The older one called after him. "You're always going on about how much you love metal! Honestly, it was a compliment!"

"I said, Quiet!" Tomas snapped at him.

The young man grumbled something under his breath before fiddling with the crossbow he carried.

With nothing better to do, she turned to check on Davian. He had seemed to be in a hurry after his meeting with the doctor, practically rushing them out the door. When the others tried to question him, he gave short answers and pushed them along until they were all on their way. Since then, he had been fairly quiet.

Deciding she had enough of his attitude, Epsilon elbowed him in the gut to try getting some sort of reaction. The unexpected push caused him to stumble in surprise, barely keeping his balance.

"What was that for?" He demanded, turning on her.

"E is worried about you." Wren said, causing a yelp of protest from her carrier. "You've been all bothered looking and she wanted to see if you're ok."

She wasn't worried! She just wanted him to stop being so depressing while they walked! That was it, and nothing more! Epsilon glared at the little girl, a feat that was not easily done when your target was riding on your back.

"Oh." Davian said, rubbing his side. "Well… I'm fine. Thanks for your concern."

"Will you lot keep up, or do I need to drag you along?" Tomas demanded, now a sizable distance ahead of them. Wren took the comment as a signal.

"Are we there-"

"_Yes._ Were there, which is why you need to stay silent from here on in." He said, cutting her off. "Keep your weapons ready, your corners covered, and your eyes open. Things are about to heat up."

The building housing their targets wasn't all that impressive of a structure, but something told Davian that it was far more dangerous than it looked. Maybe it was the fact that armed security bots could be seen flying in and out of the second story windows…

Currently they observed the entrance while hidden behind the debris of a less fortunate construct.

"Camera up ahead." Tomas warned, peeking out from behind their cover. "Joseph, do your thing. Archer, keep him covered."

Davian leaned forward slightly to get a better look at what was going on. Joseph paused momentarily, planning out how he wanted to approach the obstruction. The camera swiveled back and forth in place with the metallic whine that all its kind were known for.

As it swept past their position one more time, the boy darted forward. He was already under a forlorn bench by the time the machine managed to focus on the burst of movement. His small figure allowed him to stay hidden until the camera returned to its previous rounds.

Archer kept his crossbow aimed downrange the entire time, his earlier ease replaced by silent focus.

Once the coast was clear, Joseph was off like a shot. He crossed the distance to the camera far faster than it could have reacted, and began working on it without a moment's hesitation. His hands hacked the machine so quickly that Davian couldn't help but wonder if he was using gene tonics. With a whirring clank, the light under the camera turned green, signaling that it was now harmless.

"Move up." Tomas ordered. In the span of a few seconds, their troop had crossed the open ground and stood at the entrance.

"Nice work Joey." Archer said, giving his brother a pat on the back. Joseph nodded back, wiping away a bit of sweat on his face.

All eyes turned to Tom as he laid out their plan. "All right, once we go in there we have to move fast. Splicers can be dumb, but even the dullest of those freaks will know something's up when the shooting starts. No offense."

Davian rolled his eyes. "Very funny."

"Archer, Joseph, you're with me. We clear out the first floor and move down to the basement. Remember, these guys won't hesitate to shoot you so don't give them the chance."

"Got it." Archer said, shouldering his crossbow.

"Davian, you take your little friends and move up to the second floor. They'll have some bots waiting, but that shouldn't be too much trouble. Think you can handle it?"

"Wouldn't it be better to stick together?" Davian asked. Tomas shook his head in response.

"We don't want to give them time to react. While you might be able to fight splicers on even terms, we can't. Our best shot is to catch them off guard and punish them for it."

"Fine, we can handle that." Davian relented. Turning, he spoke to the sisters. "Wren, be sure to keep your head down. Amelia… well… just do what you do I guess." The protector gave an anticipatory hum. Something told him she might enjoy this a little too much.

"Ready?" Tomas asked. Everyone nearby nodded their confirmation. "Good. We storm the place in three… two… one…"

The moment he finished counting down, he drew back his foot and slammed the door open with a brutal kick. A single stunned splicer stood in the main foyer with a bottle of booze half raised to his lips.

"What the fu-"

His profanity was silenced by Archer's bolt. The dead splicer's body hadn't even hit the floor before Tomas gave his next order.

"Move in!" He shouted, abandoning any semblance of stealth. Amelia launched forward through the open doorway with Davian struggling to keep up. She hardly seemed to touch the floor as she flew up the stairwell towards the second floor.

Behind him, Davian could hear the sound of firearms being discharged and the twang of the crossbow as the others split off from their group. He sure hoped they knew what they were doing. If not, he would have a bunch of angry splicers jumping him from behind.

The splicers upstairs, after hearing the earlier commotion, hadn't been caught entirely off guard. As Davian reached the top of the stairs behind Amelia, half a dozen guns open fired. He immediately dropped to the floor to avoid being torn to pieces by the storm of lead.

Amelia on the other hand, didn't even break her stride. She charged their lines with the kind of reckless abandon that only comes from total surety in one's own indestructibility. Most of the bullets ricocheted harmlessly off her armor, but several bit into the thick leather that covered her joints and other unarmored parts.

She let out an earsplitting shriek, the pain only serving to drive her forward faster. Before any of the splicers had time to react, she slammed into their position like a wrecking ball.

Davian took advantage of their disarray to launch a volley of four fire balls. Two missed, but one torching a man entirely while the last one set another alight. The burning drug addict didn't suffer long as a swipe from Amelia sent him flying into a wall, his neck bent at an unnatural angle.

Seeing an easier target, a crazed woman with a pair of revolvers turned her attention towards Davian. She fired the two guns as quickly as she could pull the triggers. While her shots weren't accurate by any means, one of them did manage to whip across his cheek drawing a line of crimson on his face.

Before she had a chance to shoot any more, he disappeared in a wisp of smoke. The woman stared at the empty spot where he had been. While her ravaged mind tried to comprehend just what had happened, Davian appeared behind her and unleashed a torrent of flame into her unprotected back.

As she fell, he turned to look for Amelia. She was nearby finishing off a pipe-wielding man who either suffered from massive Adam ravages, or the single worst case of acne in history.

Behind her, the last survivor of their attack snarled in rage. He wasn't holding a weapon, but as Davian watched his arm coursed with lightning. The man had enough common sense left to realize that metal didn't stop electricity.

Davian vanished again instantly. The second he reappeared, he grabbed the man's outstretched arm and wrenched it away from Amelia's position. The stream of lighting that erupted from his hand arced wildly as their combined weight and momentum caused them to topple over.

Davian hit the ground rolling, intending to burn the man while he was down. The splicer however, beat him to the punch, recovering far faster and slamming him back down to the ground. Davian tried to blast him with a face full of fire, but his opponent wasn't so easily beaten. The man pinned his arms to the ground and hit him with a wave of electricity.

He learned one very important thing in that moment. Being electrocuted _hurt_.

The current coursed through his body, causing every muscle to violently spasm as lightning assaulted them. His body was unable to cope with so many nerves firing off at the same time, and began to shut down far too quickly. It was impossible for him to work up the coordination to teleport with so much electricity wreaking havoc on his mind.

Suddenly, the storm was cut off with a wet crunch. As Davian's vision returned to normal, both he and his assailant looked in surprise at the needle protruding from the man's chest. He gave a wet gurgle, before being lifted bodily into the air and tossed aside like a piece of worn out garbage. Davian watched him crash to the ground, before turning to his savior.

"Thanks for that." He said, accepting Amelia's offered hand. With a groan, he got back on his feet.

The two of them surveyed the damage. While he felt like death, he thought they had done a pretty good job. Yet something still nagged him in the back of his mind.

"You ever feel like you're forgetting something?" He asked. He didn't really expect an answer from Amelia, which is why it was so surprising when he got one. She quickly pointed to the open windows where the next threat was gathering.

"Oh… Right…"

Like a swarm of vicious locusts, the airborne security bots burst into the room and opened fire.


	15. Old memories new enemies

**Disclaimer: I don't own Bioshock or any of the characters**

* * *

Some people compare battle to the game of chess. Two opponents, dueling it out while matching wits and skill. That was all well and good until you actually started fighting. Combat was a messy affair, and it rarely took place between two evenly matched opponents. Davian had long ago abandoned any hope of such a battle.

As the security bots shot in through the open windows, he ceased thinking and let instinct take over. A trio of fireballs had left his palm in an instant. The throws were wild and inaccurate, but they covered his movements as he dashed behind an overturned couch. While the furniture couldn't stop bullets, it provided a sight blocker. Bots weren't all that smart so even a small inhibition drastically limited their abilities.

This had the unfortunate side effect of leaving the security drones with only one target. Seeing Amelia in the open and rushing towards them, they all fired a concentrated burst at the big sister. Unlike splicers, they were immune to the terrifying image she struck.

One of the bullets, being of higher caliber than what they had faced earlier, blasted a hole through the leather fittings connecting her boots and leg armor. The shot punched through her ankle in a spray of blood, causing her to crash to the ground. The howl of pain she let out was unlike anything Davian had ever heard before. In all honesty, he had forgotten that she was capable of _being_ hurt.

Now he had to make a very drastic decision. In the span of a millisecond, his options rocketed through his mind all settling on the only one with even a probable chance of success. Before he had even finished consciously registering the plan, his body was in motion.

He dashed out into the open with as much speed as his legs could muster. Grabbing ahold of Amelia and Wren, he set his sights on the streets past the broken windows. The bots began their obnoxiously loud alarm that heralded another wave of gunfire. All three of them vanished from sight just as the machines' bullets started flying.

Davian's landing wasn't one he was particularly proud of. In his rush, he had caused them to reappear slightly above the street rather than exactly on top of it. This led to them all crumpling in an ungainly heap, but he was back on his feet almost instantly. The second part of his plan was about to be set in motion.

He began summoning another fire bomb, but rather than hurl it immediately he allowed it to swirl back in on itself. The blaze continued to build up until his palm was enclosed in a raging inferno. Keeping the flames controlled, Davian turned to face the bots again.

He didn't have to wait long.

It had only taken the drones a moment to realize that their target had fled, and they immediately set out towards the only place he could have gone on such short notice. The machines, having only a basic concept of strategy, all began piling out the window and into the streets at once. Exactly the way he had expected.

Once enough of the drones had bunched together, Davian unleashed hell. The ball of fire streaked through the air like a miniature sun on a collision course with the security bots. Had the unfortunate constructs known enough to scatter, some of them might have escaped unscathed. As it was, they met the blast head on.

The explosion tore through the air, sending warped metal and waves of heat in all directions. Davian quickly ducked down to avoid being battered by the molten shrapnel. Once the smoke cleared, only two security bots were left intact. They weren't a threat however. Both of them lay unmoving on the ground, their internal systems melted by the brutally high temperatures.

Breathing a sigh of relief, he did a quick check to be sure that all his important parts were still in place and had _not _been shot off at some point. Fingers, toes, vital organs, etc. Everything still seemed to be working. It was then that he remembered Amelia.

Davian turned quickly to offer some help, only to find the big sister helping Wren up as if nothing had happened. She was limping slightly, but looked more like she had sprained an ankle rather than been shot.

"Are you ok?" He questioned, not entirely sure if this was normal or not.

She just gave him a curious look before nodding in response. Without even trying, she was keeping up the tradition of scaring the hell out of him.

Once Wren was once again situated in Amelia's carrying cage, Davian spoke up again.

"We should probably go check on the others." He said. "They might need some help."

Without a word, she started heading back towards the building with him following slightly behind her. In the short distance between the street and the door, her limping had stopped for the most part and she walked almost normally again. He wished there was a plasmid for that. Having super-healing powers would certainly come in handy.

Stepping back inside felt a bit strange. In their initial rush, Davian hadn't had any time to see just how run down the place was. While few splicers actually maintained their homes to any tolerable degree, these ones seemed to have actively tried to destroy it.

Every wall had some kind of hefty damage. One had been used for target practice with a crudely drawn X being the bull's-eye, while another looked as though someone had vented their frustration on it with a sledgehammer. It was a wonder the whole thing hadn't collapsed during the fighting.

In all the chaos, one little detail stood out. A piece of paper that was entirely undamaged lay on a much less fortunate table. On a whim, Davian got a bit closer to read the unusual object.

.

Keep your guys in place. Tenenbaum is up to something.

If you see any of her men, you kill 'em all on sight. No prisoners, no questions.

Payment will come at the end of the week in the usual place.

-Hawthorn

.

Davian frowned as he read the signed name. _Hawthorn?_ He thought. The word tickled some vague memory. _Where have I heard that one before?_ Had the doctor mentioned him? It was clear that he was after her for whatever reason. Davian would have to think on it later, right now there were more important things to do.

Slipping the paper in his back pocket, he turned to find that Amelia hadn't bothered waiting for him. He set off after her with a small grumble of annoyance. Thankfully, it didn't take very long to find the stairs leading to the basement.

"Hello?" Davian called. "I'm headed down, so don't shoot me unless it's absolutely necessary." A muffled grunt was the only reply he got.

Hesitantly, he began making his way towards the basement. He knew that the chances of there being splicers waiting for him were almost non-existent, but it paid to be careful.

Stepping around the bend, he found Archer, Tomas, Joseph, Amelia, and Wren all silently observing the contents of the room.

"What's with the statue impressions?" He asked, trying to ease the tension. "You look like you've seen a-" His comment died as he saw what they were looking at.

"Oh…"

The basement had been used as a storage room. Lining the walls were stockpiles of weapons, ammunition, food, and other vital supplies. These however, where not what everyone was looking at. They were staring at the bodies.

Men, women, and even a few children had been thrown in a heap in the back of the room. The stench of rot spoke volumes about just how long they had been there. That wasn't the worst part either. Many of them bore signs of torture; missing fingers, extensive injuries, and heavy bruising that still colored their skin long after death. Apparently the splicers hadn't been following the kill-on-sight rule that their leader had given them.

None of the deceased showed any signs of Adam abuse. These were people from the colony, people that Archer, Joseph, and Tomas had likely known. Even Wren seemed weighed down despite not seeing the same grotesque image as they did. Amelia was the only one who appeared at ease, looking upon the scene with only a mild curiosity.

"Hey kid…" Tomas spoke up, his voice deadpan and heavy. "You got any more of those fireworks?"

Without a word, Davian nodded and stepped forward. Flame coursed through his hand and leapt hungrily at the pile of corpses. Once they were thoroughly ignited, he lessened the intensity of the blaze enough that it wouldn't drain him entirely.

Their group watched the bodies burn until the smell became too unbearable to stand. With a jerk of his head, Tomas ordered them back up the stairs.

"We'll have a scavenger team pick up the supplies." He said to nobody in particular. "Our job is done. Let's get home and tell everyone that these bastards won't be a problem anymore."

"These what?" Wren asked, her curiosity peaked by the new word.

"Nothing." Davian said quickly. He shot Tomas a small glare for the curse, but the man wasn't paying him the slightest bit of attention.

Shoulders slumping, he fell in line once more.

* * *

On the outside, Cain's face was the picture of icy calm. Inside however, his mind was a flurry of activity. One of his spies had just reported some very important information. His steps continued at a carefully measured pace as he made his way to Benjamin's office.

Once he arrived, he gave his traditional three quick knocks before stepping inside. For anyone else, this would have been tantamount to suicide as Hawthorn was not fond of people coming in without his permission. Thankfully Cain was too important to his work to simply kill.

"Sir?" He ventured. "I believe I have some news you'll want to hear."

Benjamin was seated in his chair, looking as though he had spent the night in it. In all likelihood he probably had.

"This had better be damned important." He growled, massaging his forehead in a manner that was suspiciously similar to a hangover.

"It is." Cain stated. "The boy you were worried about? Davian? He's been sighted again." Benjamin's head immediately shot up. "He was seen moving with several of Tenenbaum's men. They just hit your safe house outside the Drop. From what I can tell they took the forces inside by surprise, and left no survivors."

It took several moments for his words to sink in. When they did, Hawthorn's expression turned manic.

"Their working together…" He said, slowly rising to his feet. "Their after me… and their working together…" His knuckles went white as he grasped his desk in a death grip.

Cain watched impassively as Hawthorn's paranoia worked him into a quiet frenzy. The man's eye was staring into the distance with feverish intensity as images of the two played throughout his mind. It was amusing in a way, to watch him like this. There was a perverse pleasure to be had in seeing someone crumble.

With his fist slamming down on the desktop, Benjamin wrenched himself back to reality. His expression now showed nothing short of blind rage.

"They want me _dead_ Cain!" He shouted, each word growing louder. "Well, I'm not going to die so easily! I want you to get together some of your men, your _best_ men, and track that little shit down before he becomes a problem. Find him. Kill him. Do whatever it takes to show Tenenbaum that her little tricks won't work. Make an example of him, and make it bloody!"

The corners of Cain's mouth turned up in the barest hint of a predatory smile. This was the reaction he had expected. This was the one he had wanted.

"Of course sir." He assured. "I'll see to it that the young man is dealt with in a timely fashion. And believe me; by the time I'm through with him nobody will dare challenge you."

His words had the desired effect. Hawthorn sat back down, muttering viciously about what he was going to do to Tenenbaum once he got his hands on her. Cain paid him no mind as he exited the room, his thoughts already turning to his plan.

He would kill Davian. Not because Benjamin wanted him to, but because the boy had something he wanted. Two somethings. Somehow, he had managed to get his hands on a gatherer and a big sister.

If Cain could claim the two of them for himself…

The possibilities were limitless. No longer would he be forced to work behind the scenes for an incompetent fool. No more would he have to put up with the man's infuriating idiocy. He would rule, he would command, and he would set his sights on something far greater than the sunken city.

Cain's eyes slowly rose to the ceiling. They didn't see the metal and glass making up the corridor he was walking through. Instead they saw blue skies, white clouds, and a world that was utterly unprepared to face his might.

Rapture was just the beginning. Very soon even the surface would fall to him as well.

He allowed himself a moment of anticipation. Everything was falling into place.

* * *

There was a problem. Almost as soon as their group had arrived back at the colony, Davian had been whisked back to Tenenbaum's office by armed guards. Unlike earlier, only he was allowed inside. Both Amelia and Wren were forced to stay back. The big sister expressed no small amount of frustration, though whether this was because she didn't want him going alone, or simply because she didn't like being ordered around he couldn't tell.

Before long, he was seated face to face with the doctor once more. She observed him much the same way she had the first time, only now there was a slight edge of tension pervading the room.

"Hello again Davian." She said. "I'm sorry for the disruption, but something very important has recently been brought to my attention."

He knew what this was about. There was only one thing it could be, but he elected to play dumb in the hopes that he was wrong.

"What would that be exactly?" He asked with as much innocence as he could.

"Doctor Gregory recently talked to me about you." Tenenbaum said, folding one hand over the other. "He spoke of some very odd markings on your back."

"I told him, those are just some old scars." Davian assured. "You tend to get some of those when people want to kill you."

"Scars." She mused. "Indeed. Tell me Davian, how much do you know about the Saturnine?"

There it was. The temperature in the room seemed to drop about twenty degrees.

"I know that they're a cult." He began, choosing his words carefully. "I know that they were fond of drinking a mixture of blood and Adam. I also know that they were killed off back when Jack tore Arcadia apart."

Her eyes were boring into him, seeing far more than they let on.

"I want you to answer me truthfully." She stated. "I will not accept a half-answer, and I won't allow you to dodge the question. Are you a member of the Saturnine?"

He began to ask how he could be part of a cult that didn't exist anymore, but her hard glance prevented him from doing so. With a sigh, he gave in.

"I was. Not anymore." He said. "A long time ago. I was still a kid, but I was well on my way to becoming one of them. It isn't exactly a time I like to discuss."

"I need to know more than that." The doctor said, not letting up. "If you want to gain entry to our home then I will need to be sure I can trust you. This isn't something I will leave up to chance."

He glanced away, hoping to delay the inevitable for as long as possible. He would have to tell her, but he sure didn't want to.

"I got involved with them a little while after my dad died." He began. "My older sister got us in. It's not like they were our first choice, but we had no money and nowhere else to go. They accepted us into their group. Without them we probably would have been killed off by splicers."

Tenenbaum nodded, encouraging him to go on.

"I split from them once they started offering me ambrosia. Well, not at first. The stuff was good, and it made me feel… powerful. I didn't know why, but I knew I liked it. Then the side effects started kicking in. Hallucinations, voices in my head, the works. Once I got wind of what it was made of, I made a run for it. I'd rather take my chances on the outside than slowly go insane from drinking blood."

He sighed again, rubbing the side of his head.

"They didn't chase me. Either they didn't care, or they thought I would come back. I wanted to, I'll give them that. But pretty soon it didn't make a difference. Jack showed up and put an end to them, so I couldn't go back."

"And what of your sister?" She asked.

He averted his eyes at that.

"I left her behind. She was having bad reactions to the Adam she had ingested, and I couldn't get her to come with me. She wouldn't stop talking about the 'light' and the 'symbols' that they were showing her. Maybe I could have done something more but… I left her. Odds are, Jack killed her at some point."

Tenenbaum gave a small nod of sympathy.

"Your sister, what was her name?"

Davian raised his eyes to look back at her. "I think you've already guessed what her name was." He said.

"I would like to be sure."

He cringed. The words forced themselves out of his mouth more by automatic response than conscious acceptance.

"Her name was Amelia."


	16. Dress up

**Disclaimer: I don't own Bioshock or any of the characters**

* * *

What was taking so long? Epsilon was growing increasingly agitated as time continued to crawl by. She had expected these people to welcome them back after she and Davian had cleared out the splicers. Instead, he was practically kidnapped by armed guards the moment they arrived back at the Drop.

Even worse was the fact that _she_ was now being held under watch by more troops. All the frustration she had worked off in the fight immediately came back with a vengeance.

Wren sat quietly in the only chair that had been provided for them. Not that it was a problem, Epsilon hardly felt like sitting right now. The little sister was toying with the purple ribbon she wore in her hair.

The guards eyed both of them with a fair amount of trepidation. It was clear that they had little experience dealing with a protector, but their weaponry looked like it had been heavily modified. Epsilon had no doubt that they were using armor-piercing rounds.

In order to distract herself and prevent a bloodbath, she checked on her earlier bullet wound. The skin around the injury was still raw and sore, but the hole itself had mostly healed over. By now, it looked like she had been stabbed by a needle rather than been shot. She was lucky. The bullet went straight through her ankle. If it had hit a bone, it might have become lodged in her leg. Such a thing would be excessively painful and it would force her to dig out the projectile through the slowly regenerating flesh..

Sometimes rapid healing was a pain.

She would have to repair the damage to her suit at some point. While the hole didn't detract much from its ability to stop bullets, it would be a death sentence if she tried to go outside without a fully air-tight rig.

At last, mercifully, she heard the sound of the door opening. A quick glance revealed Davian walking in with the crossbow wielding human. His expression was far from happy.

"Mister M! Your back!" Wren cried, jumping to her feet. He let out a muffled 'oomf' as she bowled into him. "Where were you?"

"I was just having a chat with the doctor." He choked, trying to lessen her grip on his midsection enough to draw in air. "She had some... well… questions that needed to be answered. Nothing for you to worry about though."

The remark seemed to satisfy her, and her stranglehold took on a less life threatening intensity.

Epsilon however, could see through the ruse easily. Something had happened in there that was bothering him. She was slightly surprised to find herself wanting to find out just what it was.

"Anyway…" He began, finally succeeding in prying Wren off. "Tenenbaum agreed to let us stay, at least for a while. Archer is going to show us to our rooms, and after that we need to meet with Tomas again. She didn't tell me why."

"That's right." Archer said, stepping forward with a confident grin. "I'm here to play babysitter while you get situated. Now pack your bags, and let's get going. We're burning daylight here."

Daylight? What was a daylight? And who was burning it? She couldn't see anything burning.

Irritatingly enough, nobody else seemed to be confused by his sentence. Davian and Wren both took up their respective supplies, while Epsilon was forced to follow behind them as they walked with Archer.

The young man seemed to be far too cheerful, strolling along at a leisurely pace with both a splicer and a big sister behind him. It had to be an act. Focusing on nothing else, Epsilon devoted all her attention to trying to pierce the veil of ease he had raised. She looked for even the slightest hint of tension or fear, but was unable to find anything. There was no way he _wasn't_ faking was there? No sane person would be able to treat strangers like that.

Maybe he was just really stupid…

The group came to a sudden halt when a familiar face crossed their path. Looking rather ragged, and sporting a black eye, Stanley Poole had certainly seen better days. It was funny in a way, she had almost forgotten about him.

Upon seeing them, the battered man's face twisted into a snarl.

"_You!"_ He hissed.

"Oh." Davian jumped back at the venom in Stanley's voice. "What are you still doing here? Weren't you gonna go back to that train station or something?"

His words seemed to drive their former hostage deeper into a rage. He shook with barely contained fury, while undoubtedly fighting the urge to punch Davian.

"There's something I want you to do." He snarled through grit teeth. "Go find the deepest hole you can, curl up at the bottom of it, and _die_!" With that, he turned and stormed off back the way he had come.

They all watched him go, not entirely sure what to make of the situation. Eventually Davian broke the silence.

"What happened to him?" He asked, turning to Archer.

"Turns out someone in the colony knows an awful lot about him." The young man replied. "A woman by the name of Grace Holloway went mental when she cornered him. It took three guys to pry her off. Tenenbaum wants to keep him 'under observation' until she decides if he might be an issue or not."

The image of Stanley being beaten on by some lady while three armed guards tried to hold her back did wonders to improve Epsilon's mood. Unfortunately, Davian didn't seem to share her enthusiasm. If anything he almost looked sympathetic to the man. Maybe someday he would learn to find humor in other's misfortune. Besides, the guy probably deserved it. Maybe.

"Here we are, room 104." Archer announced, bringing them up to a door that looked almost exactly the same as all the others around it. "This is where you three will be staying. We don't have a lot of extra room so you'll need to share, but we made sure to pick one with at least two beds. There's also a couch if the little tyke needs a bed to herself."

Epsilon frowned. How exactly was she supposed to remember where this was? How did the others differentiate it? He had called it room 104, but the only thing she could see to identify it was some strange symbols scratched into the surface. Had he actually counted, or did he just have them all memorized? With her shoulders slumping, she realized she would have to rely on Davian to find the room again.

"Anyway, you guys will probably want a pit of privacy." Archer said. "There are some spare clothes in there for you, so take your time and I'll lead you to Tomas when you're finished."

For a moment, all three of them stared at him uncomprehending.

"Wait, what?" Davian asked.

Archer just chuckled. "You didn't honestly think we were going to let you walk around the colony looking like that did you?" He asked, gesturing at them. "You and the little princess look like you just crawled up from the gutter, and she…" He pointed to Epsilon. "looks like she wants to murder somebody."

She _did_ want to murder somebody. What was wrong with looking the part?

"There are plenty of outfits to choose from, so just pick your favorite and come on out when you're finished."

They all entered the room with very different attitudes. Wren was ecstatic about getting a new wardrobe, and immediately shot to the large pair of dressers to begin rifling through the choices. Davian was somewhat more hesitant. He seemed a bit suspicious of the arrangement for whatever reason.

Epsilon was torn.

On one hand, removing her armor in favor of more mundane clothing went against all her training for being prepared and ready for battle. Fabric did very little to stop bullets and she often wondered why splicers didn't look for better protection. At the same time, she could still handle herself without the armor. She was stronger, faster, and far deadlier than any of them could claim to be. It would also give her a chance to repair the damage her suit had sustained.

Maybe this would be a good thing. People tended to underestimate you if they didn't see something out of the ordinary.

Fine, she would play there little game. Let the humans think they are safe. It would make things much easier when, well… _if_; a conflict broke out.

By this point, Wren had gathered up a sizable pile of mismatched clothing, and disappeared into a side room to get dressed. Davian was picking over what was left, seemingly not wanting to commit to any one choice.

Epsilon turned her attention to removing her equipment. She would decide on an outfit once she was out of it.

Her helmet was the first thing to come off. It was the easiest to remove, and as soon as it fell away all her senses were assaulted by the smells and sounds of Rapture. Put mildly, it was less than pleasant. Unwashed bodies and the smell of decay weren't exactly her favorites.

Next came the harvester. She flinched at the sting of its IV feed being pulled out of her arm. With the massive needle removed, her arm felt unusually light. She hoped it wouldn't throw her off in a fight.

Now she began the long process of loosening all the straps that held her battle armor in place. While all the connections made it secure, they also served to make it very tedious to remove. It took a full ten minutes just to get all the ones on her limbs, and she still had to loosen the back ones. She hated those. You needed to bend your arms much too far in order to reach them.

Davian seemed to see her plight.

"Need some help?" He asked.

Normally Epsilon would have preferred to do it herself, but one of the straps was stuck on something and she couldn't see it. With a slight grumble, she nodded to him and gestured to the offending strip of leather.

As he worked, her senses became very conscious of the fact that she was letting a splicer not only get near her but stand behind her. Her muscles began to tense unconsciously with each tug on her suit. She had to actively fight the urge to whip around and beat him to the ground.

When at last Epsilon felt the strap loosen and his presence move away, she allowed herself to relax again. Davian went back to sorting through the provided clothing while she began the process of removing each part of her armor.

Gloves first, then boots, followed by her leggings, and finally the breastplate. She was careful to lay them all down in such a way as to avoid any part snagging on something. If the metal bent when she tried to put it back on, removing it again would be a major pain.

Satisfied with the condition of her gear, she started taking a look at the wardrobe choices. She didn't get very far before a strange choking noise interrupted. She turned to find Davian with one of the oddest expressions she had ever seen.

His face was frozen with his mouth half open, looking halfway between shocked and terrified. What's more, it couldn't seem to decide on going bright red or deathly pale. He was staring at her but she couldn't understand why. Had she done something strange? He had already seen her with her helmet off once so she doubted it was her face.

After several moments of silent questioning, he found his voice.

"Y-Y-You weren't…" Davian stuttered, apparently unable to speak in an understandable fashion. "You weren't wearing anything under that…"

Epsilon raised an eyebrow. Of course she wasn't wearing anything under her suit. It kept her warm enough by itself, and additional fabric would only hinder her movements. That and it would chafe.

Apparently he didn't see the obvious logic as his reaction didn't change. Instead, he forcibly ripped his gaze away and made a point of looking everywhere except at her while quickly heading towards the door.

"I-I'll see if there's another room open to change in." He said, taking several pieces of clothing with him. His face had finally settled on a dark crimson shade.

Epsilon watched him go, thoroughly confused. None of her other sisters had ever reacted that way when she had removed her armor in front of them, so why had he?

Eh, it was probably just a weird splicer thing. Not worth worrying about.

She turned her attention to choosing a set of clothing from the leftover selections. Dresses, skirts, and other superfluous items were immediately tossed aside. They would get in the way if fighting started or if she needed to move quickly. Most of the more practical choices were too large, but she did manage to find a pair of slacks and a shirt that could be tucked in.

Epsilon gave a few experimental twists after getting dressed. They were a bit loose, but compared to the other options it was only a small annoyance. She stole a glance down at her bare feet. The only shoes she could see that would fit here looked both impractical and highly uncomfortable. Going without them wouldn't do her any real harm. Besides, it would be sort of like when she was a little sister herself. Walking down the elegant hallways… Singing nonsense songs… With her knight by her si-

Her moment of nostalgia was forcefully derailed as she brought herself back to the present. Epsilon growled at herself, annoyed by her willingness to relive past ignorance. Rapture wasn't a grand paradise, the corpses weren't angels. And her knight…

He wasn't coming back.

All of a sudden, she felt very alone. She wished that Davian hadn't run out like that. Especially considering she couldn't see a reason for him to do so.

Epsilon shook her head. Was this how desperate she had become? That she preferred a splicer's company to being alone? This was just getting sad.

"I'm reeeeadyyy!" Wren's voice filled the room without warning. The girl stepped through the side door, wearing a vast assortment of poorly coordinated clothing. Seeing Epsilon, she smiled.

"Hi E. Where's Mister M?"

Epsilon smiled back. That's right, she wasn't alone. She had her own charge now, and that was what mattered. Walking over to the child, she directed her back into the dressing room.

She wasn't about to let her little sister go out looking like that.

* * *

Davian was having a very hard time trying to calm down. His face burned furiously as he struggled in vain to focus on getting dressed. He couldn't get the image of Amelia out of his head. Her standing there, only a few feet away without any clothes on as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

It wasn't like he hadn't seen naked people before. Many of the dead bodies had their clothing stolen, and quite a few splicers were too out of it to notice if their attire had degraded. Even so, it still felt so… _dirty_. As if he had been spying on her while she was taking a shower or something.

Davian reminded himself again that she was the one who got undressed in front of him. Maybe she didn't understand what that kind of thing entailed. He doubted Lamb had taught the big sisters much about social etiquette.

Eventually, he managed to finish dressing himself in a somewhat subdued suit and pants. He kept his old shoes on, but other than that everything else was new. Not half bad he decided, at the very least it made him look less like a vagabond.

After making sure everything was in order, he stepped into the hallway to find Archer waiting for him. The young man gave him a quick glance, and a thumbs up.

"Nice." He said, grinning. "Looking like that you might pass for a normal person instead of a killer drug addict."

Davian rolled his eyes. "Thanks for the vote of confidence. You sure know how to make a guy feel welcome."

"I calls 'em as I sees 'em." He replied, chuckling.

It wasn't long before the door to room 104 opened up, and the two sisters stepped out. Both of the boys were left speechless.

Wren looked much nicer than she had before, but she wasn't the one that caught their attention. For Amelia, the simple change of attire had been a drastic transformation.

"There's no way…" Archer mumbled, more to himself than anyone. "This girl can't be the same thing that was tearing people apart earlier, can she?"

She was wearing boys clothing, but it seemed to fit her well. The shirt hung loosely on her deceptively thin frame, creating an illusion of vulnerability. Her pale skin and blonde hair were a far cry from the metal that had become her image.

Davian could hardly believe that it was her either. The yellow eyes left no doubt, but she still looked far too small to be one of Rapture's most terrifying creatures. From now on he would have to remind himself that there was a person underneath the armor.

Of course, thinking that brought up another image of _exactly_ what was underneath. Davian quickly looked away, willing his face to stop igniting.

"I can safely say that the three of you clean up well." Archer said, breaking the spell. "Now we need to get you down to Tomas. He's got something special for you to see."

"Special?" Wren asked, perking up. "Like present special? Or birthday special? Or-"

"Like big shiny object special." Archer said, giving a conspiratorial wink. "If you are going to be staying here then you'll all need to see what we've been working on."

"I wasn't aware you were working on anything." Davian said.

"That's the point." Archer replied. "Trust me, you won't be disappointed. Let's just say that it's a very big deal."

Needing no further encouragement, or perhaps simply feeling impatient, Amelia gestured for him to get going.

With that, they set off to see just what Tenenbaum had in store for them.


	17. Welcome to the family

**Disclaimer: I still do not own Bioshock despite doing nothing to try and claim the rights for myself. Go figure. **

* * *

"Sir, I don't believe that this is a good idea."

If there was ever a time for Hawthorn to have one of his over controlling moments, now was certainly not it. Cain had gone through the trouble of carefully selecting his most trusted agents for the upcoming mission, when his employer decided to throw a metaphorical wrench in his plans. Benjamin had decided that since he was the one in charge he would be the one pick who went after Davian.

"Your right." He said, fumbling to light his latest cigar. "It isn't a good idea, it's a _great _idea. I have just the right people for the job. Here, take a look!" He tossed the files on each of them to his less-than-pleased assistant.

Cain was already well aware of the splicers who he had been given to work with. Knowing things was his job, and he would be doing a very poor job of it if he let Hawthorn take him by surprise. While all their talents were impressive, it was their loyalties that were the problem. They all answered to Benjamin, which would make Cain's plan much more difficult to follow through on.

The first was Hammer. A brutish name for a very brutish man. He would have been around nine feet tall if it were possible for him to stand up straight. As it was, his seven and a half foot frame made him a massive presence in any situation. If popular rumors are to be believed, he was taken up by Hawthorn after supposedly ripping off a bouncer's drill and beating the metal giant to death with it. Thankfully, he was dumb as a rock. This would make it far easier to manipulate him in Cain's favor.

Second came Isabelle. While not as gargantuan as Hammer, she still cut an impressive figure at six-foot-five and dressed in welder's fatigues. Her equipment wasn't just for show either; she was an expert at crafting metal into weapons of death. Her gun of choice was an alpha series pattern spear thrower that had been modified to be fired by an un-enhanced human. The weapon was so hard to reload that she was rarely able to fire it more than a couple of times in any given fight. Then again, she didn't really need to. She was cocky, arrogant, and ambitious. While these were all traits that Cain could use, she was far more likely to report him to Hawthorn than join him. She would have to be disposed of at some point.

Third on the list was Jericho. The man was a splicer through and through. He brought heavy plasmid chaos to the fight, along with a terribly unstable state of mind. The only weaponry he carried other than his various Adam fueled powers were an assortment of bombs and grenades. Each one was lovingly hand crafted by the madman himself to create the biggest explosions possible. He wasn't big on subtlety. Jericho was no doubt crazy, but he also wasn't the most fervent supporter of Hawthorn. The two of them had been at odds ever since he had blown up seventeen of Benjamin's favorite attendants in a rather spectacular demonstration gone wrong.

Last, but far from least, was Ares. Out of all of them, he was the one Cain knew the least about. The man walked around bare-chested, and bald headed, with Greek symbols carved into his exposed skin. He dismissed the idea of gun-play in favor of two vicious hatchets, both kept in perfect condition by hands that were intimately familiar with them. Cain knew that he was a Houdini splicer, but that was about it. His intelligence, abilities, and general stability were all anyone's guess. What's more, there was no telling just how loyal he was to Hawthorn's will. He would be a problem.

"I have seen them sir, but I still feel that this job would be better accomplished by my own me." Cain said, trying to salvage as much of the situation as possible. "I have no doubts about their skills, but-"

Sadly, Hawthorn was beyond hearing his complaints. The man was already too caught up in his own little world.

"You'll take them after Davian." He said, his hands jittering with barely contained energy. "You'll kill him off, and you'll show Tenenbaum exactly what happens to those who piss me off! Show her the kind of people who work for me!"

Cain closed his eyes, tuning out the rest of Benjamin's tirade. By this point it was obvious that he had no choice in the matter. He would have to work with the troops he had been given. That was fine. It wouldn't be the first time he had turned a bad situation to his advantage. In the end, the splicers were tools to be used, broken, and discarded.

As Hawthorn devolved deeper and deeper into his rant, Cain turned and left. His departure went entirely unnoticed, as did almost all of the work he did. But that was fine. Anonymity was a powerful weapon in its own right. While the deluded tyrant sat on the throne, he ran the kingdom.

And soon, his kingdom would take on a much larger scale.

Cain set out to gather his new soldiers. They would serve his purposes whether they knew it or not.

* * *

Davian couldn't believe his eyes. He tried to speak, but his mouth simply opened and closed without any sound escaping. He was looking at something impossible. Something monumental.

"Like it?" Archer questioned, shooting him an excited grin. "My little brother is one of the people working on getting it up and running. He looks at the engines, finding ways to get the most mileage out of the limited fuel supply that we have."

"Is that…" Davian still couldn't bring himself to voice the question that he was dying to ask. It was something he couldn't have dreamed of in a thousand years.

It was a large submersible. Something akin to a bathysphere, but on a massive scale.

"You didn't think we were just sitting here with our thumbs up our collective asses, did you?"

The splicer was too entranced by the machine to even notice the expletive.

It obviously wasn't finished. Other than the fact it wasn't under water yet, it still had several sections missing. Even so, the entire thing was so large that it would certainly be able to transport the entire colony and still have plenty of room to spare.

"What is it?" Wren asked, thoroughly confused by everyone else's reactions. Tomas was the one to answer her question.

"It's a ship." He said. "For the past couple of years, Tenenbaum has been gathering everyone still sane enough to want out of this place and getting this thing up and running."

He turned, looking both Davian and Amelia in the eyes.

"Each person here has poured countless hours into this project. It's our way out. Our chance at survival. Each one of us has the responsibility of keeping that hope alive. If you're going to be staying here, that responsibility will be yours as well. You'll be expected to do whatever you can to get it in working condition. That will include gathering resources, working on electronics if you have the skills for it, and guarding the colony from those who would harm it."

His face suddenly became dark.

"If you should fail in those duties, if you compromise the security of our people, or if you choose to betray our trust…"

He took several steps forward until he was towering over the two of them.

"I'll kill you."

Amelia's eyes narrowed, glaring at the threat. Davian put a hand on her arm to keep her from doing anything too rash.

"I get it." He said. "Don't worry, we won't be a problem." Amelia shot him a sideways glance as if to say that she would make no promises.

The tension stretched on for several more moments until Archer broke the silence.

"Great!" He said, clapping Tomas on the back. "Now that that's been sorted out, who's up for a round of drinks?"

* * *

As it turns out, the colony did in fact have a bar. Half an hour later, Davian found himself seated across from Archer in the establishment charmingly named the 'Indefensible Intoxicants'. He was willing to bet the man who named it was under the influence of his own products at the time.

Amelia had flatly refused to set foot inside. The loud noise, press of people, and nature of the establishment all ensured that she would be waiting outside with Wren despite the little sister's desire to see what the big deal was. Tomas had also gone his own way, choosing to go back to whatever work he did in his free time.

Davian swirled his glass of suspicious liquid idly. He wasn't all that interested in drinking, but right now he wanted to get an idea of what colony life was like.

"You've hardly touched yours." Archer said, already on his third glass despite showing no outward signs of intoxication. "You not thirsty or something?"

"Just out of practice I guess." Davian replied. "The last time I drank alcohol was a long time ago. I woke up in Ryan Amusements with no clothes and no memory of how I got there."

That elicited a small laugh from the young man.

"Sounds like fun times." Archer said. "But I guess you're used to crazy stuff, being part of the Saturnine and all."

Davian's head jerked up, a sharp glare forming in his features.

"She _told_ you?" He demanded.

Archer waved his concerns away. "She hasn't told me anything. I just happened to be listening in. Joseph taught me how to hack into the radio systems a while ago, so now I eavesdrop on other people whenever I'm feeling bored."

Davian stared at him open mouthed, unsure what to make of his casual admittance to violating the privacy of others. Eventually, he sighed and looked back down at his drink.

"Wonderful." He said. "So, how many people will know by the end of the day?"

Archer put a hand on his heart in mock outrage. "I'll have you know that I never tell anyone about the things I overhear! Why just take Tomas for example. I've never told anyone that he talks to himself when he's alone, and not just talks but holds long conversations. It's pretty fun to listen to, I'll have to show you some time."

Davian wished that they were alone so he could strangle him.

"So how did you get involved with them anyway?" Archer questioned. "I heard the part about your sister getting you in, but how did she manage?"

Silently, the splicer debated how much trouble he would get in if he simply snapped his companion's neck right then and there.

"Most of the Saturnine were male." He hissed, his voice sounding as pleasant as a knife cutting through ice. "She was female. You put it together." He hoped his tone would be enough to deter any further questions.

It wasn't.

"Harsh. What did you do for them? Were you a hit man or something?"

"I was a kid." Davian said. "I did chores and stayed out of the way. Sometimes I would crawl through a duct or something to open a door from the other side, but I didn't go around on raids or anything like that."

"Doors? I thought they were all Houdinis?" Archer said, raising an eyebrow. "Why would they need to do anything other than just teleport through?"

"They can't see the other side." Davian explained. "Jumping in blind is essentially a very painful way to commit suicide. Have you seen what happens when a Houdini materializes in a solid object?"

He shook his head.

"I have. It isn't pretty, and very few of them were insane enough to risk it. Those that were usually ended up regretting it shortly after."

Archer leaned back in his chair, sipping his drink thoughtfully.

"What about the sisters?"

"What about them?" Davian asked suspiciously.

"How did you end up meeting them?" Archer asked. "I've got a bet going with Peter. He thinks you have them on your payroll or something, but I don't believe that. _I_ think you went all white knight and saved the two of them from a hoard of marauding splicers."

Davian pinched the bridge of his nose. "You're both wrong. I met the two of them at different times, and I sure didn't save Amelia from anything. She attacked me and I blew up a gas barrel in her face. The only reason she's still hanging around is because she wants to look after Wren."

"Geez." Archer said. "You must be one hell of a Casanova then. Blow her up, and she _still _likes you? You'll have to teach me how to do that some time."

"She doesn't like me." Davian stated flatly. "If anything, I'm fairly sure she hates me."

"Are you kidding? She was sticking to your side ever since the two of you showed up. There's something going on there whether you want to admit it or not."

"She tried to kill me." He said again. "I don't think that is how girls typically greet people that they like to be around."

"Sure it is." Archer commented. "You probably just caught her at the wrong time of month."

Davian, who had been going for a sip of his drink to ease the irritation of his interrogation, violently spluttered causing the liquid to go all over the table.

"What is _wrong_ with you!?" He demanded, glaring murderously at the young man. "I did NOT need to think of that!"

Archer doubled over, laughing at his reaction.

"Your face…" He gasped. "Is priceless right now. I wish I had a camera to preserve this moment forever."

Davian got to his feet, having had enough of the degrading questioning. He had taken two steps when his arm was caught.

"Hey, hey, hey." Archer spoke up. "Sit back down, I promise I won't laugh at you again. It was just a joke, no need to get angry."

Very slowly, he got back into his seat.

"I'm only staying to finish what's left of my drink." He said. "No more questions about Amelia."

"That's not her name you know." Archer said. At an inquisitive glance from Davian, he continued. "Protectors are usually named after the Greek symbol carved into their suits. Hers would be Epsilon. The number five."

"Epsilon…" He repeated. It sounded cold. Unfeeling. In a way, it was fitting for the killer big sister. She often seemed to be so _other_ compared to the rest of the world. At the same time, he couldn't see her with a name like that. She was still a person underneath the mask of death. People didn't have numbers.

"So…" Archer began, building up to something. "Why did you name her after your sister?"

"I told you, no more questions." Davian said, his voice growing colder.

"Aww come on, just this last one." He pleaded. "If I don't figure out your reasoning for it now, I'll just go make a bet with someone else and end up pestering you again later."

"What makes you think I had a reason?" Davian asked defensively. "Maybe it was just on a whim. Maybe I'm just not all that creative."

"Organizing your books in alphabetical order? That's something you do for no reason." Archer said. "Naming a super powered killing machine after your dead sister? That isn't."

Davian sighed, shaking his head. His shoulders slumped down as his body slipped deeper into the chair.

"Because… I'm an idiot. That's why. It wasn't supposed to mean anything, but it was my way of pretending I had done something. It's stupid, but on some level being able to just say that name made me feel like I hadn't abandoned her. Especially after everything she did for me."

Archer watched him silently, his demeanor far more serious than usual.

"That isn't stupid." He said, leaning forward. "Listen… I can't really say if you did everything you could since I wasn't there, but I don't think she would want you to beat yourself up over it for this long."

"It doesn't matter what she wants anymore." Davian said. "She's dead."

Archer got to his feet, clapping him on the shoulder.

"Then how about you make something with what you've got? You might not be able to go back and save her, but there are still a lot of people here who could use your help. If you can't fix your past then you might as well try to fix your future."

With that, he went on his way. Davian watched him go, wondering just what he meant by those words. They sounded far too philosophical to be coming from the seemingly care-free young man. Maybe he wasn't as much of a pain as he had first thought.

"Hey, buddy." A rather burly man said, getting Davian's attention. "I hope you got money, cuz it looks like your picking up your friend's tab."

Then again…

* * *

That night Davian was lying awake once again. Amelia lay in the other bed; her arm draped protectively over Wren's sleeping form. It was sort of touching to see the two of them together like that. At least, it was when it wasn't so disturbing.

Nothing individually was keeping him awake tonight. Rather, he simply couldn't bring himself to close his eyes. He chose instead to reflect on the events of recent times. Why, just a month ago none of this would have seemed possible.

Turing over in bed to get more comfortable, he caught sight of something poking out of the pocket in his old shirt. Out of curiosity he picked up the object and brought it to light with a tiny flame in his palm.

It was the note.

The one he had found in the raid on the splicers. Frowning, he re-read the last name on the list. Hawthorn. Where had he heard that before? It sounded far too familiar to be a coincidence. Maybe…

Wait.

Hawthorn.

Benjamin Hawthorn.

Davian shot straight up in his bed, adrenaline rushing through his system as the realization hit him like a bolt of lightning.

_The shotgun gave a click as the trigger was depressed, before an explosion wiped away all other sensation._

Benny.


End file.
